


Just A Little Fun

by stilinski_wolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, College AU, Falling In Love, Hale Fire Still Happened But Isn't Mentioned, Happy Ending, Multi, fuck buddies, sex buddies, versatile!Sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:07:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3582240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilinski_wolf/pseuds/stilinski_wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starting a casual, no strings attached, just sex relationship with someone always sounds easy and fun and complication free at first until one of them has to go and fall in love with the other person. </p><p>Unfortunately for Derek, that is exactly what happens to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Derek's POV

It started like how it does in the movies. Derek was attracted to Stiles, Stiles was attracted to him, and they eye fucked during class enough that they kind of got the message so that all it took was a look and a nod from across the room at a party for them to meet in the middle and wander off to a room, Stiles jumping on Derek immediately once the door was closed, mouth sealing over Derek’s in a hungry, deep kiss that Derek greedily reciprocated. 

Stiles fucked Derek that night on someone’s bed in someone else’s house, and it was the best sex of Derek’s life. 

And when Stiles had laid next to him after, both of them breathing heavily, sweat drying on their bodies, he had said, “this was just sex.”

Derek had chuckled. “I know.”

“Just wanted that to be clear,” Stiles had breathed out. “I’m not looking for a boyfriend or anything.”

“Fine with me,” Derek shrugged. He wouldn’t mind a boyfriend or girlfriend, but he wasn’t looking for one either. 

“But that was mind blowing sex, so. Wanna do it again sometime?” Stiles looked over at Derek. 

“Fuck yeah,” Derek nodded. 

“Awesome,” Stiles nodded, and looked back up at the ceiling. They fell asleep like that, only when Derek woke up, Stiles was gone and it was daytime. 

Derek hadn’t wondered much about it and got dressed, feeling the night before in his ass and smirking as he remembered the night before. Time well spent.

=*=

So, yeah. It became a thing. Stiles and Derek. 

Stiles fucked Derek the next few times they met up until one time Stiles stopped Derek from turning onto his stomach on Stiles’ dorm bed and whispered into his lips, “will you fuck me?”

Derek had pulled back, smiled as he looked up at Stiles. “Yeah?”

“I’m a very versatile guy,” Stiles said, giving Derek a light kiss on the lips, the softness of the kiss unusual for them. “Are you?” 

“Very,” Derek nodded, and then Stiles bit his bottom lip and raised his eyebrows before wagging them suggestively. 

Derek laughed and took Stiles’ naked ass in his hands, giving one cheek a smack - and Stiles lets out a pleased gasp at that - before rolling them over to put Stiles on his back. 

Derek fucked Stiles face to face, and it felt amazing, sliding inside Stiles and feeling his tight heat around his cock, and yeah, Derek was a lover of pitching as well as catching, for sure. And Stiles was too, if his loud moans and high keening wails were anything to go by, and how he took ahold of Derek’s ass and pushed him in deeper.

It was good. No, not just good, amazing. It was safe to say that they were sex buddies now.

Sometimes Derek saw Stiles with someone else, and aside from an annoying twitch in his stomach, it didn’t bother him. Stiles was really hot, he was a good fuck, and that was it. They didn’t talk much, but when they did, it was fun. Stiles was a cool guy, as Derek had known before they had started their arrangement. 

One time Derek let himself into Stiles’ dorm and saw him sleeping, naked, with some girl in his bed while his roommate, some guy named Scott, was MIA. Derek rolled his eyes and walked over to wake Stiles up, and he groaned as Derek shook him awake.

When he saw Derek, he furrowed his brow. “Derek, what?”

“Wake her up and tell her to leave, it’s my turn.”

Stiles looked over at the blond, looking for a moment like he had forgotten she was even there. “Right,” Stiles smirked up at Derek. 

He woke up the girl, who didn’t pay Derek much mind as she got up, naked, and then dressed, telling Stiles to call her for more as she left. 

“Who was that?” Derek found himself asking as he stripped off his shirt.

“Uhh, Alice, I think, I dunno. She’s in my history class,” Stiles shrugged.

“Well, I’m touched that you know my name for sure instead of being just mostly sure,” Derek chuckled, stripped the rest of his clothes off as Stiles pulled the comforter back and bent his knees, spreading them.

“Mind fucking me this time? I’m in the mood for your dick up my ass,” Stiles said, reaching for his nightstand for a condom and lube.

“Why would I mind?” Derek snorted, getting on the bed. Derek knew it was because Stiles had been doing the fucking the night before. Not with Derek, mind, but still. 

That thought barely bothered Derek as he got to fucking Stiles. 

After, Derek couldn’t help but ask, “you mind not bringing your other fucks back here? I mean, it was fine and all, but I don’t like having to wait for them to leave.” 

Stiles had looked over at Derek and shrugged. “Sure.”

“Am I your only sex buddy?” Derek had asked, feeling curious for some reason.

Stiles snorted. “What do you care?”

“I don’t, just wondering,” Derek shrugged. 

“No, you’re my only sex buddy,” Stiles was saying as he stood up and started getting dressed. “I have to get class,” Stiles said at Derek’s inquiring look. 

“Okay.”

Stiles didn’t kiss Derek goodbye, barely even said a goodbye before he was out the door. Derek suddenly found himself reminding himself that he and Stiles weren’t together, were barely anything at all. 

That thought had never bothered Derek before, and Derek scowled at nothing as he got dressed and left Stiles’ dorm room. 

The next week, Derek fucked two guys and one girl in between sleeping with Stiles. 

Derek found himself only caring about sleeping with Stiles, though, and barely tuned in with the others.

A part of him wondered if he had only slept with the others to…get back at Stiles for something, he didn’t know. It was stupid, he and Stiles barely talked. Derek shouldn’t care. He didn’t care. 

He didn’t.

When he was at another party and saw Stiles making out with some random guy, he found himself wandering over and pulling Stiles away from the guy’s lips and whispering in Stiles’ ear, “wanna get out of here and fuck me?”

Stiles smiled and nodded, and they left a confused and angry freshman behind. 

Stiles fucked him good, pounding into him, and even slowing down at one point, just their shallow breathing filling the room and Stiles’ cock dragging in and out of Derek, and Derek moaned, thrusting back onto Stiles’ cock and making Stiles let out a surprised moan and fuck hard into him, and Derek let out a “yes” in encouragement, and Stiles went back to going fast and rough, and Derek even made him go faster, harder, by reaching back and grabbing Stiles' ass and pushing him in farther, and Stiles moaned loud and long at Derek taking some control. 

Derek came with Stiles so far inside he kept hitting Derek’s prostate over and over again, and he tightened around Stiles who followed after half a dozen aborted, wild thrusts, yelling as he came inside Derek. Stiles collapsed on top of Derek then, and he didn’t move for a good five minutes, still inside Derek, before he pulled out and rolled onto his back.

Derek turned his head on the pillow to look at Stiles, who was flushed all the way down to his chest, legs sprawled out spectacularly, arm over his eyes.

“That was awesome,” Stiles murmured. “10/10, would bang again.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “You are going to bang me again.”

“Yeah I am,” Stiles said with a smirk.

Derek smiled, and Derek looked at Stiles, who he had seen around freshman year, had talked to some their sophomore year and started this, what ever _this_ was that year, their junior year. And he actually felt like talking with Stiles this time, and not small talk like usual with them, but actually talk to him. 

Stiles let his arm fall to the bed but kept his eyes closed, and looking at him in that moment, Derek thinks that Stiles is beautiful. 

“So, why is Scott never here?” Derek asked quietly, and Stiles blinked his eyes open, looked over at Derek looking a little startled.

“Huh?”

“Whenever I come over, Scott is almost always never here.” 

“Oh, we created a system,” Stiles shrugged. “We put a hair tie on the door if we’re busy…getting busy.”

“Ah, so that’s what those are for,” Derek nodded, and Stiles hummed the affirmative. 

Derek hadn’t slept with anyone else but Stiles since those three people that one week, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Stiles had slept with anyone else. He knows he’d been making out with that one kid, but would he have slept with him? _Probably,_ Derek thinks to himself.

Their sex buddies arrangement has been going on for months now, and it’s good sex, it’s amazing, mind blowing sex. But there’s an itch between Derek’s shoulder blades for…something, something that’s just out of reach, that he can’t identify, but he knows is there. 

Shaking his head to rid himself of those thoughts, he reaches out and rests his hand on Stiles’ stomach, making Stiles blink open his eyes and look over at Derek. 

“Hmm?” Stiles murmured, looking sleepy, and Derek just shrugs. He wants to ask Stiles about his parents, he wants to ask where he’s from, he wants to ask him about his friends, about Scott. He wants to ask what Stiles’ favorite food is, what his favorite color is. When his birthday is, and did he miss it? Did he fuck Stiles on his birthday this year and not even know?

Stiles ends up falling asleep soon after that, hand on his chest. Derek runs his thumb soothingly back and forth over his stomach, and Stiles is smiling when Derek looks up at his face. 

=*=

“Um…Derek.”

Derek feels something poke his face, and he squeezes his eyes shut even tighter, groaning as the something pokes him in the cheek again. “Derek.”

“What?” Derek mumbled into the pillow.

“Um, you have to go now?” 

Stiles. He sounds unsure, confused, and Derek blinks his eyes open, cringing at the bright light of the sun shining down on his face. 

..oh.

_Oh._

Derek always left after they fucked, which was usually nighttime, but he had forgotten this time, and Stiles had been asleep, unable to remind him he had to leave.

And it was morning. 

It was the morning after, something Stiles and Derek never had to worry about.

“Dude, is he hungover?”

Derek’s eyes shot open at that, and he whipped around on the bed, turning to see Scott standing there, bag on his shoulder, looking amused. 

When Derek looks at him, Stiles is scowling. 

“Scott, can you give Derek a minute to get dressed and leave?”

“Ah, I get a name this time!” Scott laughed, reaching out with his hand for…Derek…to shake? “Nice to meet you, Derek. I mean, I know we’ve seen each other once or twice when you’re leaving, but we’ve never actually met, since Stiles usually never introduces me to his conquests-”

“And I didn’t now!” Stiles huffed, glaring at his friend. 

“-so it’s nice to finally meet one.” Scott said, ignoring his friend.

Derek shakes Scott’s hand in a kind of stupor, and Scott’s face falls.

“Dude, he does know he’s a conquest…right?” Scott stage whispers to Stiles, who rolls his eyes and flops down on the bed with a groan. 

“Yes, dude, we’re just sex buddies. I wouldn’t be doing anything with Derek otherwise.” 

Derek feels a slight sting at that for some reason, but pushes the reaction down. “Um, can I…?” Derek trails off, and Stiles widens his eyes.

“Oh, right, Scott! Leave, go get a cookie or something.” 

Scott shrugged. “Okay. Nice to meet you, dude!” Scott called back to Derek before he left.

Derek, all of the sudden, felt awkward. Although Stiles does seem awkward as well, it seems to be for an entirely different reason.

“Um, so…” Stiles looked over at Derek, brows furrowed. “You can go now, dude.”

“Right, right,” Derek said, shaking his head, and he gets up and out of the bed quickly, reaching for his boxers.

“Did you just fall asleep before you could leave?” Stiles asked, something inquiring in his tone, and Derek just shrugs, turned away from Stiles. 

“Yeah.”

“…’kay, just…I don’t make a habit of my fucks spending the night, so…” Stiles said, and when Derek turns back around, Stiles is looking at Derek, meaning clear on his face, sheet pooled around his waist, his abs that usually hide under his plaid shirts on display. 

“Yeah, I know, Stiles,” Derek said, and when Stiles looked relieved that Derek didn’t make any fuss over anything, Derek suddenly felt angry. Derek smirked humorlessly, bending down for his shirt and whipping it on. “See you around.”

“Yeah, bye.”

Derek shook his head once he had Stiles’ door closed, and left.

=*=

So, it had started just like every movie ever. And it had gone just like every movie ever, which Derek stupidly, stupidly, had not anticipated.

He, the moron that he was, had gone and gained feelings for Stiles. 

And now he couldn’t get him out of his head.

Derek didn’t know where, how, when or why he got the feelings, but there they were, all in Derek’s head, not leaving no matter how hard he tried. He even tried to fuck some girl, but he couldn’t even get his pants off before he was backing away saying he couldn’t do it, his gut twisting and bile rising in his throat as she had kissed him and touched him with intent. 

It had been too much.

And Derek was fucked.

Stiles, of course, seemed as aloof as ever, just being near Derek for a fuck, a good orgasm, some small talk, maybe, on a good day, and that was it.

And Derek…he…didn’t stop it. Because he liked it, nay, loved it. He had slowly, over the months he had been with Stiles, started to become addicted to him. To fucking him, to getting fucked by him, to kissing him, to touching him, to kissing him all over, to seeing him smile, to hearing him laugh, to running his fingers through his hair post fucking as he held him - in the five minute window he had before Stiles turned into a pumpkin, lost his glass slipper, and pulled away from Derek, in every sense of the word - not that Stiles was ever really present emotionally during sex - and left Derek with barely a look and a goodbye.

And that had been fine with Derek when it had started out. Stiles had just been a warm mouth, a tight hole, a nice cock at first. But somehow, someway, without Derek looking, he became more.

And it was so fucking cliché of him, so fucking stupid to develop feelings. Derek became that person, the person who couldn’t have a casual relationship - if you could even call it a relationship. He could have one night stands, but he couldn’t keep it up for longer than that, he just couldn’t.

But…he didn’t want to let go of Stiles. Because when he had all of Stiles’ attention, he had Stiles with him. Stiles was with him when Derek was pounding into him, he was there when he had his cock inside Derek, he was there when he was sucking Derek’s brains out of his cock, he was there when Derek ate him out long enough that he came just from that. He was there in those moments afterwards, in those moments where he was coming down from his high and was looking at Derek, looking into his eyes and not looking away, and his eyes held interest. 

He was there in their trysts, and Derek loved every moment of that, craved it, desired it - desired him. Liked him. 

A lot.

And so Derek…he didn’t stop it. 

=*=

Derek was in the eatery one afternoon, getting his lunch before his one o’clock class when he heard someone calling his name, followed by a “shh, what the fuck, Scott!”

And Derek turned around, surprised to see Scott, Stiles, three girls and two guys he didn’t know filling up a table. 

Stiles groaned, banged his head on the table, and Scott ignored him in favor of waving him over. Derek went over reluctantly, watching Stiles closely, who had yet to look at Derek.

“Derek, hi! How are you?” 

“Um, fine,” Derek said, feeling awkward as the rest of their table mates looked at him.

“This is Stiles’ sex buddy,” Scott explained to the rest, who nodded, and one girl looked very interested in that, turning to Derek with a smile.

“Ah, so you’re the guy Stiles is fucking on the regular,” she said with a cat like grin. 

“Um…” Derek trailed off, and Stiles sat up with a delayed smack to Scott's shoulder, but Scott just ignored him.

“Derek, sit, join us!”

“What,” Stiles said, looking at Scott with wide, shocked eyes, and Derek shook his head.

“No, no, that’s fine. I don’t want to intrude.”

“No, no, sit!” The girl who had spoke before said, pulling out the chair at the head of the table, and Derek tried to back away, but she caught his arm. “We want to meet you, pleaseeee!” 

“Erica,” Stiles snapped, glaring at her, and she just glared back.

“Don’t be an asshole, Stiles. Let him join us.”

Stiles threw up his hands, looked up at Derek, face pinched in annoyance. “Sorry about this, man.”

Derek shrugged and rather reluctantly, he sat.

“So!” Scott said cheerfully, turning to his friends. “As you know, that’s Erica,” Scott pointed to the blond sitting on the right side of Derek, and she smiled at him, showing him her perfectly white teeth. “Next to her is her boyfriend Boyd, and next to him is Lydia, and that guy on the end is Isaac, and next to me right here is my girlfriend Allison,” Scott said, grin on his face as he looked adoringly at the beautiful girl next to him, throwing his arm over her shoulders. Allison smiled and gave Derek a wave.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Derek said politely, and they all responded in kind.

Derek chanced a glance at Stiles, who’s face was red as he glared at Scott.

Derek could tell when he was not wanted. 

“So, Derek, tell us about yourself,” Erica said, leaning forward. 

“Um…not much to tell,” Derek shrugged, and heard Stiles let out a sigh next to him.

“Oh, come on!” Erica rolled her eyes. “Tell us about your family, stuff like that.”

“I don’t-” Derek started before Stiles cut in.

“Erica, he’s not my boyfriend, so you can stop playing twenty questions.”

“I asked him one-” Erica started indignantly.

“It doesn’t matter!” Stiles snapped, and Erica’s face hardened, glaring at Stiles. Stiles slowly deflated at her stare, leaning back in his chair, and Derek felt awkward and strangely hurt. It didn’t matter. Knowing about who Derek was didn’t matter. 

Good to know.

“I have to go,” Derek said quickly, standing up and taking his tray of food, and this time, no one stopped him from leaving, although he could feel their eyes on his back all the way out of the eatery.

=*=

“Sorry about my friends last time,” is what Stiles opens with when Derek opens his door, pushing past Derek into the room.

Derek wants to say that his friends were fine, that Stiles should be apologizing on his own behalf, but refrained. 

“It was fine,” Derek shrugged, playing it cool as he turned around, shutting the door. 

“You sure? Because they were totally out of line, acting like you-”

“Mattered?” Derek said, a little biting, not being able to stop himself.

Stiles froze, blinked, actually looked into Derek’s eyes, and it felt as if Stiles was really seeing him for the first time.

Stiles’ face fell, and he dropped his arm to his side, mouth hanging open, saying nothing. “Acting like you were my boyfriend,” Stiles murmured eventually, searching Derek’s face, and Derek cleared his throat, shook his head, made his features as blank as possible.

“Of course, I know. I’m just in a bad mood right now, that’s all,” Derek shrugged, crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Right,” Stiles said, still looking at Derek. Which he’d done before, of course, many many times, but it still felt like the first time he was actually looking at Derek. Even those times during sex when he’d look at Derek and only Derek, and have his full attention on him, still…this felt like the first time.

Derek cleared his throat. “Look, are you here for a fuck or was that all you wanted?” Derek asked.

And then Stiles blinked, looked away from Derek and then back, and he took a step closer. Derek held his ground, didn’t move into him like he craved. 

Stiles opened his mouth, about to say something, before he closed it again and nodded, choosing not say what he had wanted to say. “Yeah, fuck me? I’ve been craving your cock up my ass for days,” Stiles says, and Derek can tell he means it, even as it comes out a little shaky and there’s no cocky smirk on his face. 

And Derek could let this go right now, could tell Stiles to leave and that they were done, them fucking was done. 

But in the face of it, in having Stiles right in front of him, something pleading in his eyes, something that’s never really been there before, Derek can’t do it.

And so he just gives in and pulls Stiles in by a hand on the back of his head, kissing his deeply, roughly, and Stiles sags into Derek’s body, hands coming up to hold onto his shirt, which he uses to pull Derek to his bed, falling back onto it with Derek on top of him, and when Derek pulls back from their kiss to take off his shirt, he comes back on top of Stiles, who is still looking at Derek, and Derek’s heart rate increases, blood rushing through his ears, and it’s hard to swallow.

Then he kisses Stiles and puts it out of his mind, ignoring how perfect Stiles’ body fits against his.

=*=

Things change after that. 

The sex after that becomes less impersonal, less of something that’s just to get off and have a good time. 

It becomes well into March, about five, almost six months after they started this thing, and it’s become more than Derek ever thought it would, and he beats himself up for it, for having feelings, for feeling so strongly about Stiles, for complicating things between them, even though Stiles didn’t know there was now a complication. 

Derek’s studying in the library one day, immersed in history, when he two hands cover his eyes and someone leans against him. “Hey.”

And if feels very…boyfriendly, for Stiles to do it, and Derek turns around, Stiles’ hands falling from his eyes, and he smiles up at Stiles, can’t help the way his heart rate speeds up. “Hey.”

“Want to go hook up in the stacks?” Stiles grins, wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and Derek can’t help but grin back and nod. 

=*=

Derek fucks Stiles in a place in the library where usually no one ever goes, and it’s quiet, dusty, in the corner where there are high windows, aisles of books behind them. Derek’s thrusting into Stiles from behind, and they have most of their clothes on, they’re leaning up against the wall, the windows right above them, and Derek wraps his arms around Stiles in the middle of it, pulling Stiles closer to him, and Stiles leans his head back on Derek’s shoulders, choked off gasps escaping his mouth, and Derek kisses down Stiles’ neck. 

It feels far more intimate than their usual fucks, and Derek can’t let himself think about that, just acts on instinct.

And Stiles doesn’t object, seems to burrow back further into Derek, even. 

Derek grabs ahold of Stiles’ cock, and Stiles moans loudly, and Derek puts his hand over his mouth to quiet him, but Stiles only moans louder behind his hand, and that seems to turn him on, Derek shutting him up with his hand over his mouth.

Derek thrusts harder, faster, and Stiles is whimpering behind his hand, Derek is panting, and he can’t hold on much longer. 

“Stiles, I’m gonna-I’m-fuck, I’m going to come!” Derek whispers harshly, and Stiles fucks back on Derek’s cock and forward into Derek’s hand, desperate, wanton, eager.

They rarely talk during sex, but that seems to have changed a little too, and Derek takes his hand off Stiles’ mouth to wrap it around Stiles’ waist, his other hand jerking Stiles quick and fast, thrusts erratic, wild, and Stiles lets out an “ah! Fuck!” and it’s loud, but Derek’s too far gone to quiet him, and Stiles lets out a loud, strangled moan as he comes on the wall of the library, and Derek is following him a few seconds later, biting Stiles’ shoulder as he does, and Stiles whimpers, thrusts into Derek’s hand as he finishes coming. 

And then Stiles is slumping in Derek’s hold and Derek holds him up against the wall to thrust the last of his come into the condom, and then it’s over.

Stiles whimpers again when Derek collapses against his back. “Holy fuck,” Stiles breathes, eyes closed, and Derek nods from where he’s resting his head on Stiles’ shoulder. 

Miraculously, no one comes to where they are, and soon Derek’s pulling out of Stiles and throwing the condom away in a nearby trashcan and Stiles is turning around to lean against the wall, grinning like a cheshire cat, looking sated and happy, relaxed. He doesn’t even bother pulling up his pants.

“That was definitely one of our top five fucks,” Stiles says, and Derek smiles, walks up to Stiles and pulls up his pants, tucking Stiles in to his pants and zipping him up, and Stiles bites his lips, looks at Derek. Derek fixing Stiles’ clothes for him was definitely something he had never done before, that they had never done before. 

“So,” Stiles says, pulling Derek into him, which was also new. It was all so new since things had changed between them, and Derek loved it. “You’ve definitely improved.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “You saying I wasn’t good before?”

“Oh, you were good, you were really fucking good,” Stiles grins, and he leans forward like he’s going to kiss Derek, before he freezes and blinks up at Derek and pulls back, and all of the sudden, it’s awkward. 

Derek loves seeing this kind of, in a way, new side to Stiles. The side he gets to see beyond the sex, beyond small talk, but Derek knows that Stiles probably hasn’t realized he’s been showing Derek who he is, slowly, day by day, and Derek knows he’ll realize it soon. 

But Stiles just shakes his head today, looking at Derek’s chest where his hands lay. “It’s just, now you’re pretty mind blowing at it.”

“I thought I was already mind blowing,” and yeah, Derek kind of pouts.

Stiles laughs, pulls Derek in closer, and this feels intimate, close, _real_ and Derek’s breath catches in his throat. “You were, but now you’re just…more…” Stiles pauses, and when he looks up at Derek, Derek can’t look away, and Stiles whispers, “…mindblowing, I mean.” 

Derek smiles. “Good to know.”

Stiles smiles back, and Derek feels like maybe, just maybe something different is going to happen, something more.

But Stiles pulls away, going over to where he’d tossed his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, turning to Derek, who turns slowly to look at him.

And for the first time, Stiles seems to linger as he says goodbye, and he looks back at Derek twice before he disappears. 

Derek’s left shaking. 

=*=

Two days later, Derek sees Stiles making out with a guy before they disappear upstairs. 

Derek tries to ignore the hurt and the yes, he will admit it, jealousy, and goes over to Erica, who he’s become friendly with lately, and ignores Stiles when he comes back down, hair less styled than before and smelling like cologne. 

Derek catches Stiles’ eye once, and Stiles is looking closely at Derek, like he’s trying to figure Derek out, figure out his emotions. It mostly makes him look confused.

Derek makes up an excuse about not feeling to well and wanting to go home later when Stiles tries to get him to go to a room with him for sex, and Derek tries not to let his sudden aloof response get to him. 

It’s like Stiles was back to his old self again. At least, the person he had let Derek see before.

=*=

The next time they meet, it’s in Derek’s dorm, and Stiles says to Derek’s roommate to leave so he can fuck Derek, and he pounces once Derek’s roommate does leave.

He fucks Derek hard and fast, from behind, and barely touches him, and it’s as impersonal as can be.

Derek, for the first time while being Stiles’ sex buddy, feels used. He finds that he hates the feeling, especially after Stiles just ups and leaves as soon as he comes down from his orgasmic high, not even gracing Derek with a goodbye.

=*=

“It’s like he, I don’t know, like he’s regressed,” Derek’s telling Erica one night. She’s quickly become a close friend of his, and over the past few months, she’s started to hang out with him more and more.

“So, let me get this straight-” she snorts at the inadvertent pun, and Derek rolls his eyes. “You…what, like him?”

Derek shrugs, doesn’t like the look in her eyes. “I don’t know, kinda? Maybe. I don’t know,” Derek repeats.

“So what’s the problem?” Erica says, leaning down to paint her toenail. She’s sitting at the end of Derek’s bed, while Derek’s up by his pillows, leaning against the wall. His roommate is out. 

“It just…for a little bit, it felt like we were…I dunno, getting closer, in a way? At least to being like…something close to friends, and now it’s like we’re not anymore.”

“Do you want to be his friend?” Erica asks, looks up at him.

 _I want to be more,_ Derek thinks to himself, but doesn’t say it. “Yeah, he’s cool. I guess we could kind of be friends with benefits, but…maybe he doesn’t want that now? I dunno.” 

“Hmm, well-” Erica says, but then someone knocks on Derek’s door, and…speak of the devil.

“Hey, Derek, you wanna-” Stiles starts, but freezes when he sees Erica over Derek’s shoulder, and Erica turns to grin at Stiles. 

“Hey, here for a bootycall?” She leers, and Stiles looks at Derek, then back to Erica, then back to Derek, before settling on Erica. 

“Yeah, actually,” Stiles says, chin held high, and Derek just stands there, unsure. Stiles looks back at Derek and says, “stealing my friends now?” and it comes out clipped, annoyed.

Derek blinks, shrugging, not knowing what to say. 

“Look Derek, you’re not my boyfriend, you know-” oh Derek knows that, all right “-you don’t have to befriend my friends.” 

“I’m-”

“Oh please, Stiles,” Erica snorts, standing up and closing her nail polish bottle. “I like Derek, and I would have liked Derek if I had met him without you somewhere in the equation with whatever you two are, so you can stop while you’re ahead.”

Stiles shifts on his feet, looks at Derek before coming into the room and turns to Erica who is putting on her shoes.

“You have a boyfriend, you know.”

Erica looks up at Stiles and _glares_ and Derek doesn’t understand what is going on.

“Fuck you, Stilinski. Derek is my friend and nothing more. Not that you should care either way though, right?”

And they have a stare off, Derek standing there, bewildered, before Erica storms off, giving Derek a peck on the cheek and a promise to hang out later before she’s out the door.

Stiles is standing there, fuming.

“Um…you okay?” Derek asks tentatively, and Stiles snaps out of it, looking at Derek, cheeks flushed. 

“Yeah…yeah, I’m fine, lets fuck.” 

Stiles doesn’t want Derek to fuck him, and Derek is fine with that, only during, Derek suspects it’s so he can have control, because he makes it just as impersonal and hard and rough as the last time. 

Derek’s not sure what is going on with Stiles, but when he grabs Stiles’ wrist as he gets up to leave, he feels Stiles’ pulse jump.

“What?” Stiles says, turning to look at Derek, face impassive. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Derek asks, imploring Stiles to tell him the truth with his eyes.

“Peachy,” Stiles says, voice clipped and hard, and then he puts on his clothes and leaves. 

=*=

Erica invites Derek to hang out with the gang - Stiles’ gang - the weekend before finals, and Derek accepts, only to wish he hadn’t when he gets to the diner they’re all eating at and Stiles’ face falls when he sees Derek.

Derek sits as far away from Stiles as possible.

The others warm to Derek easily, and Derek doesn’t think that’s such a good thing when he can see Stiles sitting at the end of the table, silent and stoic, looking angry.

Scott seems to like Derek, and he invites Derek to hang out with them after eating, and Derek is about to say yes when he sees Stiles glaring at Scott.

“No, no that’s fine, I’ve got to study anyway.”

“Dude, we all have to study, that doesn’t mean we can’t have some downtime before we do,” Scott implores, and Derek has no choice but to say yes when the rest plead for him to go.

While they’re in the grass in the quad on campus later, Derek walks over and sits next to Stiles, away from the group. 

Stiles looks over at Derek and then away, looking at the other students walking around.

“Stiles…” Derek says. “You don’t seem okay.”

“I’m fine,” Stiles says. 

“Look, if you don’t want me here, just ask me to leave, and I will.”

Stiles shakes his head. “That’s not what I want.”

“You sure? Because you’re sure acting like that’s what you want.”

“You’re just my sex buddy, Derek,” Stiles says, and Derek’s not sure who he is trying to convince here.

“I know,” Derek nods, even though he doesn’t believe it. He knows now that he’s in love with Stiles, is starting to accept that fact. 

“I don’t want you to leave,” Stiles repeats quietly, and when he turns to look at Derek, he finds himself leaning forward, and Stiles doesn’t stop him when he kisses him. 

It’s more real, more intimate, and more earth shattering than any fucking they’ve done before, and Derek cups Stiles’ face as he deepens the kiss.

“Wooo! Hey lovebirds, get a room!” Erica calls out, and Stiles pulls back from Derek, looking over at his friends with wide, fear filled eyes.

He looks back at Derek and Derek thinks, this is it, he’s going to end it.

“Come on, lets get a room,” Stiles says, sounding a little desperate, and Derek obliges, smiling over at Stiles’ friends - who Derek fears might just be becoming his friends too - as they part, their catcalls and whistles following them until they’re out of the quad. 

Stiles pushes Derek up against the door once they’re inside Stiles’ dorm room, and he kisses Derek, hard, demanding, not at all soft and intense and exploring like the kiss on the quad had been.

Stiles tries to fuck Derek again, but Derek whispers, “can I fuck you?” as he looks up at Stiles, and Stiles seems to hesitate for the first time in their time together. But soon he nods, and Derek turns Stiles over onto his back and doesn’t let Stiles get onto his stomach when he tries to. “Can I see you?”

Stiles tightens his lips, but says, “yes.” 

When Derek slides inside Stiles, he slides in slowly, and Stiles’ breath hitches.

And Derek, going against every sex buddy unspoken rule he’s supposed to follow, starts out slow.

Stiles is staring up at Derek with a sort of wonder on his face, and it’s quiet, in the room. The most quiet it has ever been while they’ve had sex, and Stiles pulls Derek’s face down to his shoulder with his hand on Derek’s neck, and Derek lets him.

“Faster,” Stiles commands, but Derek doesn’t listen.

“Come on, Derek, fuck me,” Stiles says, voice rough, scratchy as he pulls Derek in farther with his hands on Derek’s ass, but Derek just groans and sinks in deeper before stilling. “Derek, come on. Harder,” Stiles snaps out, not sounding lust filled, but commanding, as if it’s something he needs and not something he wants.

And Derek thinks he knows what Stiles is doing. 

So he doesn’t go faster.

“Damn it, Derek, move!” Stiles says loudly, and Derek does move, but he’s still going pretty slow. “Derek…Derek, don’t,” Stiles says, and he snaps his hips up fast and hard, and Derek gasps but takes ahold of Stiles’ hips, stilling him.

“Stiles, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“Just fucking fuck me, Derek, you asshole!” Stiles is practically shouting, and Derek leans up on his elbows, pulling his face away from Stiles’ shoulder, and Stiles…there are tears in Stiles’ eyes and he’s blinking rapidly.

“Stiles, it’s okay,” Derek says, and brings up his hand to cup Stiles’ cheek.

Stiles leans into Derek’s touch for a few moments before he wrenches his face away.

“Why won’t you fuck me?” Stiles grits out, and Derek smiles, leaning down to kiss Stiles’ trembling lips.

“I am fucking you.”

“No, you’re not,” Stiles says, and their gazes hold for a long, intense moment before Stiles pushes Derek away. “Get off me, now.”

Derek is shocked but does as he’s told right away, sliding out of Stiles who shudders despite himself.

He gets up off the bed, hands shaking as he pulls up his boxers.

“I need you to leave,” Stiles intones, pulling up his jeans.

“Stiles, I don’t understand,” Derek says, gets up anyway.

“Fuck you, Derek. Just, fuck you,” Stiles says harshly, looking around for his shirt.

“Stiles, what did I do?” Derek asks as Stiles finds his shirt and puts it on.

“That was not fucking!” Stiles shouts, and Derek jumps, startled. “That was you…fuck…going slow and all lovey dovey on me!” 

Derek blinks, not sure exactly what to say. “Stiles, I had my cock in you, it was up your ass and it was moving in and out of you -”

“Yeah, but slowly and all intense like we were fucking making love or something!” Stiles yells, and he picks up Derek’s clothes and shoves them at his chest, Derek catching them automatically. “We are sex buddies, that’s what we agreed, I told you that this was just sex, and that I didn’t want a fucking boyfriend! So stop trying to be one!” 

“I’m not trying anything -” Derek starts, but is cut off.

“Oh, the fuck you aren’t!” Stiles yells, and tears fall down his cheeks. “I didn’t ask for a fucking boyfriend, and if that’s what you wanted, you should have told me long ago after the first time!”

“Stiles-”

“Do you have feelings for me?” Stiles exclaims, and Derek freezes, mouth opening and closing as he tries to find the words.

“Oh fuck,” Stiles whispers, “this was…I should have stopped this a long time ago. This is just…it’s too much.”

“Stiles, I never asked for anything, I knew what I was getting into and it was all fine at first.”

“At first,” Stiles says, running his fingers through his hair, agitated. “Derek, this, whatever this was between us, it’s over. We’re done.” 

Derek didn’t expect to feel such a tight pain in his chest when he finally heard the words, to feel like his heart was actually breaking, and suddenly Stiles isn’t the only one with tears in his eyes.

“Couldn’t you have continued to not notice me?” Derek asks weakly, voice rough from trying to hold back tears.

Stiles furrows his brows, confused. “Huh?”

“Things were fine when you looked at me but didn’t really see me, ya know?” Derek smirks sadly, looking down at his clothes and tossing them on the bed except for his boxers, which he proceeded to put on. 

“What are you talking about?” Stiles says, lowering his arms to his side, looking at Derek. Always looking at Derek, always _seeing_ him now. 

Derek shrugs. “Before, when you just saw me as this hot body to get off with and nothing more. When you didn’t look at me like you actually think about me outside of us fucking, when you didn’t seem to care how I fucked you, just as long as you got off. When you…didn’t really care to see me,” Derek shrugged, looking at Stiles, who looked kind of…kind of sad, in a way. 

“I mean, I know we’ve never had any in depth conversations, so how could I have possibly fallen in love with you, right?” And Derek sees Stiles’ eyes widen in fear at his admission, and smiles sadly. “But I just couldn’t help it, you know? I couldn’t help but want to know more about you and have in depth conversations with you after sex, before sex, outside of sex…and wanting to know about your parents and where you grew up and what it was like and what your favorite color is and when you birthday is, and what kind of songs you like and…more,” Derek said, and Stiles had taken a full three steps back from Derek. 

“I couldn’t help but fall in love with your smile and your laugh and wit and your sarcasm and…your loyalty,” Derek murmurs, thinking of all the times Stiles had talked about his friends absentmindedly to Derek, about how he wanted to punch Jackson Whittemore for not seeing what an amazing, special woman Lydia Martin is, and wanting to see Scott and Allison stick it out for the long haul so at least someone in their group did. “You make me laugh and you’re fun and interesting and…amazing. And I know you’d only be more amazing if I got know you even better, to get to know the real you,” Derek looks into Stiles eyes at that, and finishes putting on his clothes as he looks down sadly. “But that’s my fault, for becoming a walking, talking movie cliché and falling in love with my fuck buddy,” Derek shrugs.

“Stop saying you’re in love with me,” Stiles says desperately, closing his eyes. “Please.” 

“Sorry,” Derek says, gets his things and steps up to Stiles, who opens his eyes and looks at Derek, a tear rolling down his cheek. “I’m sorry, for everything, and for doing this to you,” Derek says, and he does perhaps the most selfish thing so far, and kisses Stiles on the cheek, right over his tear, before pulling away. “See you around, Stiles.”

Stiles doesn’t reply.

=*=

At the end of the year party at one of the fraternity houses, Derek sees Stiles. He’s not with anyone, he’s just standing in a corner, leaning against the wall, nursing a beer, and when he catches Derek’s eye across the room, Derek is brought back to near the beginning of the year when their eyes met across a room, which started this whole thing.

Only this time, Stiles looks down and away, and Derek leaves without him.

=*=

Derek spends the summer alone and miserable, working at a stupid grocery store in his hometown for something to do, and stays with his high powered attorney sister, Laura, and spills his guts to her about Stiles, taking the comfort she offers in response to his broken heart.

A few girls and guys flirt with him and try to get his number, but Derek really isn’t up for it, especially when all he can think about is Stiles.

Erica calls him him throughout the summer, as well as Scott and even Boyd, and it gets him through. They carefully avoid the topic of Stiles, though.

And that’s just fine with Derek.

=*=

It’s safe to say that Derek didn’t get over Stiles when he comes back for senior year and sees Stiles at the party for the new year, talking to Lydia and laughing at something she’s saying. He looks good, great even, and Derek feels a pang at the realization that Stiles really didn’t miss him all that much, not like Derek had missed him. 

He leaves before he can notice Stiles’ eyes on him, watching him go.

=*=

Stiles approaches him a few weeks into the semester at the library, and Derek is surprised to say the least when he sits across from him and smiles tentatively at Derek. 

“Hi.”

“Hey,” Derek says, not quite sure what to make of this.

“So, look,” Stiles says, not looking away from Derek. “We ended last year on a…pretty bad note.”

“Yeah,” Derek nods, raising an eyebrow in question.

“I just…Derek…” Stiles clears his throat. “I’m wondering if we can…at least try to be…friends?” 

“Friends?” Derek asks, and Stiles huffs, nodding. “Like, without the benefits kind?”

“Yeah,” Stiles nods quickly. “Maybe go on from there?”

It doesn’t take much contemplating for Derek to nod with a small smile, and Stiles beams at Derek, and Derek has never seen a smile like that from Stiles, and his breath leaves him for a moment. 

“Good, that’s great. I’ll see you around,” Stiles says, and then leaves. 

And that’s it.

=*=

They become great friends after that. It takes time to get over the awkwardness, although it never really leaves, before they move forward.

Derek never sees Stiles with anyone, and frankly he’d rather not see Stiles with anyone, and Derek has no interest in anyone else. Stiles is kind of it for him, for now, at least. Not that Derek would tell him that.

Derek learns that Stiles’ favorite color is green, that his birthday is in October - a couple weeks before they had started fucking last year - and so he was almost 22, that he loved dogs, that his mother had died when he was eight, so it was just him and his dad, who was a sheriff in their home town, he and Scott had been best friends since freshman year in college, he loved the Mets and was devastated when Derek declared his love of the Yankees, dramatically declaring their friendship over before Derek pulled him back to his seat, laughing with Stiles. 

And Derek was right, last year. He was just falling more in love with Stiles the more he got to know him. 

It was hard to stay his friend sometimes. Staying just his friend. He was nowhere near over Stiles Stilinski.

He knew the others - now kind of also Derek’s friends too, not that Stiles minded anymore - knew it, that they could see it. He caught Boyd one time staring at him knowingly when he looked away from Stiles, who was talking animatedly with Scott, smiling, hands flying everywhere, eyes sparkling. 

But, as Thanksgiving drew near, he knew he had to at least try to get over him, as Erica had been telling him since the start of the year.

So at the party after classes were over for a week during Thanksgiving break, Derek chatted up a guy, and he was pretty nice, pretty cool, pretty normal. Derek could learn to like this guy. He had done that and more with Stiles.

Only, when the guy kissed Derek, and Derek kissed back, after it was over, Stiles was there.

“Hey Derek, buddy, who’s this?” Stiles was asking, and Derek tried not to feel confused at his body language, the tightening of his jaw, the glare thrown…Tommy, Timmy, Jimmy’s, whatever his name was’s way. 

“Um…” Derek blanked, turning to the brunette, who smiled and held out his hand towards Stiles. 

“Billy.”

Billy, right, that was his name!

Stiles didn’t return the gesture for a handshake, and Bill dropped his hand awkwardly. 

“Yeah,” Stiles turned to Derek. “Hey Derek, I need you for something, come with me?” 

“Um, sure,” Derek nodded, and let Stiles take his arm and lead him away from Bobby, who just shrugged and walked away. “So, what did you need me for?” Derek asked as Stiles lead him into a room on the first floor, but stiffened when Stiles shook his head fiercely and kissed Derek, pushing him against the door to close it. 

Stiles pulled away when Derek didn’t respond, and he looked sheepishly at Derek.

“Have you been drinking?” Derek asked and Stiles shook his head.

Derek looked at Stiles, who wasn’t swaying, didn’t look glassy eyed, and who’s hands were steady on Derek’s arms. “Stiles?”

“Yeah?” 

“Why don’t you want a boyfriend or girlfriend?” Derek asked, finally asking what he had been wanting to ask for almost a year.

Stiles winced, dropped his hands from Derek’s arms, stepped back away from Derek. Again. 

“It’s…it’s complicated.”

“I have time,” Derek murmured, and Stiles sighed, rolled his shoulders as if to expel the tension in them.

“Okay, so maybe it’s not that complicated,” Stiles said, biting his lip.

“Okay,” Derek nodded. When Stiles remained silent, Derek said, “you don’t have to tell me if don’t want to.”

“No, it’s fine,” Stiles said, turned away to sit on the bed. “I’ve had one relationship in my whole entire life, and it ended horribly. I was heartbroken. He wasn’t.”

Derek nodded, knew where this was going now.

“It’s so stupid,” Stiles shook his head, laughing shakily. “It’s so…common. Heartbreak. It happens to everyone. It’s a way of life, yada yada yada blah blah,” Stiles rolled his eyes. “But it doesn’t change the way it feels, to be heartbroken.”

“I know,” Derek found himself saying before he could stop himself, and Stiles looks up at Derek, stricken. “Go on,” Derek urged, ignoring the twist in stomach at the sad look on Stiles' face.

Stiles blinked, swallowed heavily before looking down at the ground. “But I swore to myself that I would never, ever set myself up for that heartbreak again, that I would never let myself get emotionally attached, that I would get the pleasure without the pain,” Stiles let out a ragged breath, looked up at Derek. “Only, it didn’t work out, in the end.”

Derek’s breath quickened and hope burst through him, and then he was taking a step forward.

“Because I did what I had been doing for years, my plan was full proof, and it had always worked before. No emotional attachments. I had even had a few sex buddies before you, although they never lasted as long as you and I did. But I was doing what I do best, with you,” Stiles looks up, then, “except it didn’t work. And I still got my heart broken in the end, except it was all my fucking fault this time.” 

Stiles stood up, but didn’t look at Derek, played with his fingers as he continued. “And I hurt you, too. All I did was cause hurt instead of preventing it. And I…I tried not to fall in love with you,” Stiles choked out, looking up at Derek. “It worked awhile, but when you said that…when you basically said you thought you didn’t matter…fuck, I realized that you did matter. Do matter,” Stiles murmurs, and he steps up to Derek, still looking at him, and Derek can barely breathe, can barely think, and the whole world has dropped away so that only Stiles exists in that room with him. “And I tried so hard to fight it, and I was so fucking scared of that feeling, of loving you, and loving you more than I ever loved Danny, a whole fuckton more, and that just made it worse.”

Derek swallowed, looked down as Stiles stepped up into his personal space.

“But now…now I had to go and become like…best friends with you, and just fall in love with you more. And seeing you kiss that guy…” Stiles clenched his jaw.

“You were jealous?” Derek asked, voice soft, small smile on his lips.

Stiles looked into Derek’s eyes. “I wanted to be the one kissing you out there, not him. I haven’t even been able to so much as touch anyone else in that way since last year, since that one guy at that party months before we even ended it. I tired, once,” Stiles admits, “but it just felt…gross and wrong and I felt like throwing up…because I just wanted you,” Stiles breathes, inching forward, eyes on Derek’s lips. “I just want you.”

And Derek doesn’t stop him when he kisses him, lets himself sink into the kiss. Stiles pulls back eventually, whispers, “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Derek murmurs, and when Stiles looks at him pleadingly, Derek says, “I forgive you.” He had already forgiven him the moment he told Derek that he loved him back. 

Stiles kisses Derek passionately then, hands in Derek’s hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss and Derek holds on for dear life, feels like the room is spinning, feels his skin thrumming with arousal, for Stiles, only for Stiles for so, so long.

“I love you,” Derek pulls back to say, and Stiles laughs shakily, holds Derek’s face in his hands.

“I love you, too,” and proceeds to kiss the life out of Derek. 

And this time when they fall onto the bed, Stiles asks Derek to make love to him, and he does, slowly, intimately, passionately.

It’s the best sex Derek’s ever had in his life. 

Stiles kisses Derek afterwards, soft, slow, sensual, and they hold onto each other tightly, don’t let go.

When Derek wakes up the next morning, Stiles doesn’t kick him out of bed, he just smiles down at Derek, kisses him, and doesn’t let him leave when he tries to go to the bathroom. 

And when Stiles pulls Derek over to their friends later that day at in the eatery, happily declaring Derek as his boyfriend, he’s never felt happier.


	2. Stiles' POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It didn’t start out like how it does in the movies. Stiles didn’t turn around at freshman orientation and meet Derek Hale’s eyes across the room as time stood still and Stiles’ life changed forever in that instant and they didn’t spend the next two years dancing around an attraction to one another, all the while getting to know each other and falling in love before they gave in to their wild, passionate urges and made love. 
> 
>  Fuck. No.
> 
> ~
> 
> "Just A Little Fun" written from Stiles' POV. You don't have to read the first part in Derek's POV and you don't have to read this part. It's just a little fun addition if you wanted to know Stiles' side of things and what was going on in his head throughout.

It didn’t start out like how it does in the movies. Stiles didn’t turn around at freshman orientation and meet Derek Hale’s eyes across the room as time stood still and Stiles’ life changed forever in that instant and they didn’t spend the next two years dancing around an attraction to one another, all the while getting to know each other and falling in love before they gave in to their wild, passionate urges and made love. 

 Fuck. No.

No, it was exactly the opposite. 

They’d had about one class together the year before, Stiles had seen the hot looking guy around his Freshman year, and they talked a little in their Sophomore year from being forced into the same space as the other. They had another class together at the start of their Junior year, and Stiles noticed the guy, noticed how fucking hot he was, and how he kinda wanted to fuck the guy until he was screaming Stiles’ name and could barely move. 

And it was just easy to meet his eyes across the room during a party, communicate his desire to fuck the guy with his eyes and a nod, and then meet him in the middle to grab his hand and bring him to a room and kiss the life out of him the moment the door closed. 

It wasn’t complicated, it wasn’t hard, it wasn’t falling in love, and it was what Stiles did best. By now he was a fucking pro at getting all the pleasure and none of the pain. 

He fucked Derek that night on some strangers bed, and it was definitely one of his better sexual encounters. He even came earlier than he had thought he would, so points for the hot, washboard-abs adonis. 

After, as he always did with anyone he had sex with, he made clear that, “this was just sex.” 

He felt relieved when Derek just chuckled and said, “I know.” 

“Just wanted that to be clear,” Stiles breathed out, still coming down from a truly awesome orgasm. “I’m not looking for a boyfriend or anything.” 

“Fine with me,” Stiles saw Derek shrug out of the corner of his eye, and it was perfect. Not many people were up for a fuck buddy arrangement, but Derek just might be, because Stiles always loved a spectacular orgasm. 

“But that was mind blowing sex, so. Wanna do it again sometime?” Stiles asked. Not completely mind-blowing, but close enough. Didn’t matter if he was exaggerating a little bit when it was mostly true. Stiles looked over at Derek, who had sweat drying on his truly fantastic body, his breathing just as labored as Stiles’, waiting for an answer that came quickly. 

“Fuck yeah,” Derek nodded and Stiles tried not to grin at the eagerness in his voice. Stiles was just that good. 

“Awesome,” Stiles nodded, looked back up at the ceiling, and he let his eyes close, drifting off for a bit but not really falling asleep. 

Derek eventually fell asleep, and Stiles didn’t really want to be there for the morning after. Being there wasn’t really something he did, ever. 

So Stiles got up, careful not wake Derek, got dressed, and left, feeling satisfied and happy about getting a new fuck buddy.

=*=

Stiles liked fucking Derek, loved having his cock up that truly magnificent, tight ass, but Stiles loved it both ways, so after the first few times, they were in Stiles’ dorm, and Stiles stopped a kind of adorably eager Derek from turning onto his stomach with a hand to his shoulder, leaning down to breath against Derek’s lips, “will you fuck me?” 

Derek had pulled back a little and actually smiled up at Stiles. Stiles felt relief that Derek seemed okay with the possibility. “Yeah?” 

“I’m a very versatile guy,” Stiles said, and he had no idea what possessed him to lean down and give Derek a soft kiss on the lips, but there you have it. Stiles didn’t read much into it. “Are you?”

“Very,” Derek nodded, and Stiles bit his bottom lip at Derek’s eagerness, proceeding to wag his eyebrows suggestively. 

Derek surprised Stiles by taking his ass in his hands and giving it a smack, making him gasp in pleasure - Stiles definitely liked getting spanked. It was a kink of his, so sue him - before rolling them over to put Stiles on his back, and _fuck yes._

Stiles had found the perfect fuck buddy in Derek Hale, honestly. He wanted casual too, he was in this for sex just as much as Stiles was, he loved taking it up the ass and giving it up the ass. Honestly, what more could a man want from a fuck buddy? It was as perfect as things could be, in Stiles’ mind. 

And man, Derek was really good at fucking. It wasn’t the best Stiles had ever had, but it was up there, for sure. Dude knew how to make Stiles whine and beg for it, knew how to make Stiles want more of his gorgeous cock inside him. 

Stiles could see their arrangement lasting a few solid months before he got bored of that ass and that cock. 

And the best thing was, Derek wasn’t his boyfriend, he was barely even a friend, so he could fuck and be fucked by whoever else he wanted and Derek didn’t give two shits. That definitely earned a point in Stiles’ book, if you asked him. Derek was a cool guy, he was chill.

One morning a couple months into their arrangement had Stiles waking up to Derek asking him to tell then naked girl next to him to leave, who Stiles had forgot was even there for a moment, and he was so non-caring about it all, barely even looking at the girl when she stood up to get dressed, although honestly, neither was Stiles. He barely even heard the girl shutting his dorm room door. 

Derek did ask who the girl had been, which had been a first, and Stiles ignored the irritated feeling it gave him. 

Instead he played it off and asked Derek to fuck him. His dick was a little tired from doing the fucking the night before, and he could use Derek’s magnificent cock up his ass that morning. 

But after, Derek made Stiles more irritated when he asked Stiles not to bring his “fucks” back to his own dorm, and that was a little too close to being “boyfriends” for Stiles’ comfort, and while he said “sure” because it could very well be because Derek didn’t like waiting to fuck Stiles, it didn’t feel like the real reason to Stiles. 

Then Derek had to ask, “am I your only sex buddy?” 

Stiles couldn’t help but snort. “What do you care?” He wasn’t very comfortable with Derek questioning him all of the sudden when he hadn’t before. 

“I don’t, just wondering,” Derek shrugged, and Stiles just kind of needed to go before he acted like an asshole to Derek, who wasn’t intentionally doing anything wrong. 

And it was that thought that led Stiles to telling the truth. “No, you’re my only sex buddy,” and when he saw Derek looking confused at him getting up, he said, “I have to get to class.” Which was true. Except he didn’t have to get to class for another three hours. 

“Okay,” Derek said, looking effortlessly sexy as he laid there, one knee drawn up, sheet pooled around his waist, sweat drying on his chest. Fuck, he was hot. That was why Stiles kept coming back to him.

Except right now he had to leave before Derek decided to ask if he’d have his hand in marriage or something, so he left without looking back, leaving a naked adonis in his bed. 

=*=

“Tell everyone about your hot fuck buddy, Stiles,” Scott said teasingly one afternoon when they were all hanging out in the quad, and Stiles glared over at his best friend. 

“Ohhh, you’ve got fresh meat?” Erica said, looking over from where she was nestled in Boyd’s arms, grinning at Stiles.

“Not that fresh,” Scott chortled, and Stiles slapped his arm, telling him to shut up.

“What?” Erica said, narrowing her eyes. “You’ve been fucking the same person for who the fuck knows how long and haven’t told us?”

“How the fuck is it any of your business?” Stiles asked sweetly, and Erica huffed, giving Stiles the finger, and he flipped her off right back.

 “Tell us about them,” Lydia said casually from her spot where she was making a daisy crown, and the look she shot him was so scary Stiles found himself opening his mouth to speak when he hadn’t intended to.

“He’s fucking hot, that’s all you need to know,” Stiles shrugged, pulling at the grass absentmindedly, hating that everyone was staring at him and wanted him to talk about himself and Derek as if they were boyfriends or something. _Damn you, Scott,_ Stiles thought to himself, glaring over at Scott who just grinned back at him. 

“You mean all _you_ need to know,” Allison said from where she was reading her textbook next to Scott, looking up sternly when Stiles opened his mouth to argue. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, it’s mutually beneficial, there’s a zero percent chance of anyone getting hurt, we get off, it’s a good fuck, that’s all I need,” Stiles said, and he could see the judgement in his friend’s eyes. Whatever, they were missing out, Stiles thought to himself. Stiles’ heart was pain free, there wasn’t anything in it for Derek to hurt, not any feelings resting there for the guy to stomp on. It was fucking awesome, not having to worry about that. Stiles was living the dream, honestly, and it sucked for his friends that they couldn’t see that. 

“There’s always a chance, Stiles, no matter how slim a chance that might be,” Lydia said, going for deep and missing by a mile in Stiles’ mind. He rolled his eyes. Lydia’s glare, however, burned the fire of a thousand suns, and Stiles shrank back, feeling contrite. “Just you wait, Stiles, just you wait,” she said, going back to her daisy crown. 

Stiles wouldn’t wait, because there was nothing to wait for.

Everything was fine. 

=*=

Later that week, for the first time that Stiles could remember, he saw Derek with someone else, saw him kiss them, right in front of people, not a care in the world, before he drew back, took their hand with a smile, and walked away with them.

Stiles didn’t quite know what to think about it, didn’t know why he was standing there, not moving long after Derek and the person left. 

Why should that have given him more than a seconds thought? It was stupid, but maybe Stiles was a little possessive about his fuck buddies, who knew? Didn’t really mean anything, though, just that when he was fucking someone, he kind of liked being the only one they fucked. Which wasn’t exactly fair, he knew, given all the other people he fucked when he had a fuck buddy - which wasn’t often, though. He’d only had two fuck buddies before Derek. 

Stiles didn’t let any of it bother him, though, although he wasn’t quite sure why he sidled up to some horny freshman at a party one night a little over a week later and let him kiss him. He wasn’t even that good of a kisser, but he’d do for the night - _if he couldn’t have Derek,_ his traitorous mind said to him and what the ever-loving fuck was his brain doing? Why was he thinking about Derek at all while making out with the attractive freshman? Okay, maybe it was understandable why. This kid sucked at kissing, and he was kissing like a fish, all wet and too much suction and it was just awful. Stiles was contemplating pulling back, actually, when someone else did it for him with a hand on his shoulder. 

And then Derek’s voice was whispering in his ear, “wanna get out of here and fuck me?”

And fuck yes, of fucking course he did. He smiled and nodded, and Derek grinned, taking his hand and leading him away, and Stiles totally forgot about what he had just been doing before Derek got there. 

Stiles sighed happily when he slipped inside Derek later, and it felt so familiar, so comfortable, as if Stiles could just fall asleep one night with his cock inside Derek and he wouldn’t even care, it would just be nice and it would feel good to have his cock wrapped up tight and warm inside Derek. Stiles shuddered just thinking about it, then got to it, setting a fast, pounding rhythm, gasping and moaning as he watched his cock move in and out of Derek’s hole over and over again, and Derek’s moans of pleasure only fueled Stiles to go faster, harder, and Stiles had to bite his lip from whimpering at the perfect feeling of Derek’s tight ass. Fuck, Stiles could write a sonnet to Derek’s ass right then and there. Was it against fuck buddy rules to praise your buddy’s ass? Probably. 

And then Stiles found himself slowing down a little bit, wanting to savor it, wanting to feel that slow drag of his cock inside Derek, and he spread his legs wider to get inside Derek deeper, and Derek moaned loudly, fucked back on Stiles’ cock and fucking fuck Stiles was going to blow his load right then and there. He let out a startled moan at Derek fucking back on Stiles’ cock, making him fuck hard into him, and Stiles’ orgasm was so fucking close. Derek’s “yes” was loud and wanton, and Stiles barely stopped himself from whimpering, speeding up his thrusts again, and Derek even reached back all to way to grab Stiles’ ass and pushed him in deeper, and he was pretty sure he just hit Derek’s prostate. Stiles couldn’t help but moan at Derek taking control while getting fucked when he hadn’t really before. 

Stiles was so far inside Derek he was hitting his prostate over and over again and Derek came with a strangled groan, untouched. Stiles’ thrusts were wild and uncoordinated now, none of his earlier finesse there, and it didn’t take much, especially with Derek’s tight hole squeezing him as Derek’s ass clenched for him to come, and Stiles was surprised when he couldn’t hold in a yell, but holy fucking shit, when had sex with Derek gotten this good? 

Stiles’ legs were jelly, they couldn’t hold him up, and he collapsed onto to Derek’s back, still inside him, and Derek only grunted before collapsing onto the bed. Whether he laid on top of Derek for five minutes or five hours, Stiles wasn’t entirely sure, but eventually he was able move enough to pull out - and he had to fucking bite his lip again to stop himself from making any noise at the feeling - and roll onto his back, legs sprawling listlessly, throwing his arm over his closed eyes, breathing calmed down but still not quite normal. 

Stiles heard Derek turn his head, probably, and Stiles was kind of buzzing right now, the aftershocks of his orgasm not completely gone. 

“That was awesome,” Stiles murmured, trying not to think about how much of an understatement that was. “10/10, would bang again.”

“You are going to bang me again,” Derek’s amused voice rang out.

“Yeah, I am,” Stiles smirked, already thinking about the next time. 

They fell into silence, then, and Stiles felt…comfortable, which was really weird, but he’d just had one of the best - if not the best - orgasms of his life, so he didn’t dwell too much on the little nudge he felt like his brain was giving him, like it was telling him, warning him about something, but he was too fucked out to listen to himself.

Eventually, Stiles sighed and let his arm fall away from his eyes, which were still closed, when Derek spoke all of the sudden. 

“So, why is Scott never here?” 

Stiles blinked his eyes open, thrown for a second. “Huh?” 

“Whenever I come over, Scott is almost always never here.” 

“Oh, we created a system,” Stiles shrugged, feeling a sinking sensation in his stomach. Did Derek like want to…meet his friend? Nah, of course he didn’t. “We put a hair tie on the door if we’re busy…getting busy.” Scott was always with Allison if he was the one to put the hair tie on, and who knew who Stiles would be with when he put the hair tie on the door. 

“Ah, so that’s what those are for,” Derek murmured, and Stiles just hummed, feeling tired, worn out from a mighty good fucking, his eyes falling closed again. 

His stomach jumped when he felt a hand on it, and he found himself blinking his eyes open again, looking over at Derek. “Hmm?” What was Derek doing? His mind distantly supplied. But Derek just shrugged, and Stiles lets himself fall asleep to the feeling of a warm hand on his stomach, Derek’s thumb softly stroking back and forth, and Stiles had no idea that when he fell asleep, it was with a smile on his face. 

=*=

He didn’t wake up with a smile on his face, though. 

He opened his eyes and Derek…was still there. What the fuck?

Stiles couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe himself, that he had allowed himself to fall asleep without making sure Derek was gone. But his mind had been too muddled, too clouded from a good orgasm to think properly. 

Shit.

And then Scott came in, freezing when he saw a sleeping Derek in Stiles’ bed.

Double shit.

Stiles shushed Scott before he could speak, turned to Derek, pulling up the sheet higher on Derek and not knowing why, and poked Derek’s face, saying, “um…Derek.” Derek only shut his eyes tighter, burrowing further into the pillow and no, no, no, this couldn’t happen. Stiles poked Derek in the face again. “Derek.” 

“What?” Derek mumbled, face smushed into Stiles’ pillow and Stiles firmly pushed down the urge to smile.

“Um, you have to go now?” Stiles didn't know why it came out like a question, and he looks up at Scott, sees him smirking, and Stiles has never felt so…unsure.

Derek is opened his eyes, cringed at the bright sunlight, and then Stiles saw realization slowly dawn on his face.

“Dude, is his hungover?” Scott said, and _goddamn it, Scott,_ Stiles though, scowling as Derek’s eyes shoot wide open and he twists around on the bed to see Scott standing there. Derek then looked back at Stiles, and Stiles found himself scowling harder. 

“Scott,” Stiles mentally claps himself on the back for not snapping out his name or hissing it, “can you give Derek a minute to get dressed and leave?” 

“Ah, I get a name this time!” Scott laughed, and he actually reached out for…Derek…to shake his hand? This is why Stiles rarely, if ever, let his fuck buddies stay the night. “Nice to meet you, Derek. I mean, I know we’ve seen each other once or twice when you’re leaving, but we’ve never actually met, since Stiles usually never introduces me to his conquests-“ 

“And I didn’t now!” Stiles huffed. He didn’t! It was very important that they both understood that. 

“-so it’s nice to finally meet one,” Scott said, completely ignoring Stiles. So rude.

Derek shook Scott’s hand while looking confused or something, and Stiles tensed when Scott’s face fell. 

“Dude, he does know he’s a conquest…right?” Scott loudly whispered to Stiles, and Stiles rolled his eyes and flopped down on the bed with a groan. How many times had Stiles told Scott that it was a mutually beneficial arrangement? That right there was kind of self explanatory. If Derek had no idea, he wouldn’t be getting any benefits from this. And trust him, Derek was getting plenty of benefits.

“Yes, dude, we’re just sex buddies. I wouldn’t be doing anything with Derek otherwise.” And Stiles didn’t like how his stomach twisted after he said the latter sentence. 

“Um, can I…?” Derek cut in, and right, Derek had to leave.

Eyes widening, Stiles looked over at Scott, “oh, right, Scott! Leave, go get a cookie or something.” Scott loved cookies. Like if Scott could marry cookies, he would. It’s a thing of his. 

Scott shrugged, then. “Okay. Nice to meet you, dude!” Scott called back to Derek as he left, and _what the hell, Scott?_

Then Stiles and Derek were alone, and Stiles all of the sudden felt awkward, not knowing how to push Derek out the door, which was weird, again. Stiles was the master of pushing people out the door. “Um, so…” Stiles looked over at Derek. “You can go now, dude.” Stiles felt awkward saying it, for some reason. 

“Right, right,” Derek said, shaking his head, and then he got out of bed, and Stiles felt relieved. 

“Did you just fall asleep before you could leave?” Stiles asked, hoping that was the reason. The only reason. Derek just shrugged, back turned to Stiles, and man, Stiles loved that tattoo.

 “Yeah,” Derek said.

“…’kay, just…I don’t make a habit of my fucks spending the night, so…” Stiles said, and Stiles was the master of distancing himself. He was an island. He was cool, calm and detached.

“Yeah, I know, Stiles,” is all Derek said, and Stiles felt his shoulders sag in relief. This…thing or whatever happened last night was already getting too…weird and unusual. So it was nice to hear that Derek still knew the unspoken rules. 

Derek smirked, but there wasn’t much humor to it and Stiles felt confused as Derek bent down to pick his shirt up and did it quickly, almost harshly. “See you around.”

“Yeah, bye,” Stiles said, breathing out harshly when Derek left, and for once, the silence after Derek was gone felt suffocating. 

=*=

Scott wouldn’t shut up about Derek to the others whenever they hung out, kept nudging Stiles with a pointed look or an eyebrow wiggle, and Stiles would just scowl, glaring at Scott. Why was Scott making such a big deal over Derek? He didn’t mean anything, just like all of the others. Stiles eventually just figured that he was making a big deal because he had actually very, very briefly met the guy, when he’d never met any of the others Stiles had been with. 

Yeah, that was it.

“Ugh, why don’t you just marry the guy yourself, Scott!” Stiles snapped one afternoon when Scott was teasingly wondering aloud when Stiles and Derek’s wedding would be. 

Scott just shrugged, cool as fucking ever, and flung his arm around Allison who was doing something on her laptop. “Nah, he’s not really my type. Besides, my heart belongs to another,” Scott said while staring dreamily at Allison, who just smiled and patted his cheek affectionately, saying, “love you too, babe.”

“Ugh,” Stiles scoffed, rolling his eyes. He loved Scott and was always happy for him and Allison, who was amazing and could kick your ass in a second, but their whole…happy and whole and in a healthy, long lasting relationship thing really wasn’t Stiles’ thing, so he didn’t really understand it, never really had.

“Why do you care so much about Scott talking about your fuck buddy?” Erica asked, biting into her apple.

 “I don’t care,” Stiles scoffed again, and he just simply ignored her, put his headphones on and blasted his music when she raised a pointed brow at him. 

He didn’t care. He didn’t care at all. 

=*=

The thing was, he and Derek didn’t talk much. Sure, they engaged in small talk every once in awhile, but other than that…they didn’t say much of anything besides, “yes!” and “fuck me harder, fuck yes!” and so on. Stiles didn’t really know anything about Derek aside from how good a fuck he was and that he was in the same year as Stiles was, and he had had to take History and English Literature, except Stiles didn’t know if he had just taken those classes for his degree or actually wanted to or liked those classes. Stiles’ knowledge of all things Derek Hale was very limited, and Stiles would like to keep it that way. 

So Stiles didn’t let himself stick around for long after they hooked up, didn’t really see the point. Fuck buddies didn’t really do much more than fuck, and when Stiles saw Derek get a look in his eyes sometimes, like maybe he wanted to say more than just “how’s your day been?” and “how are your classes right now?” he bolted faster than you could say “emotions, what emotions?” 

Stiles’ one and only relationship his senior year of high school had been…a fucking disaster. In fact, the only thing that had gone right was the sex, so it had only been natural for Stiles to be interested in just that after it was over, after the heartbreak, after the, “sorry, Stiles, but I’ve never really felt a connection to you. It’s always felt like it’s just the sex that’s keeping us together, ya know? And I want more than that, I’m sorry.” 

Stiles was really not interested in feeling that crushing, painful feeling in his chest ever again, to feel like he was moving in a fog for months after it was over, not quite present all the time. That kind of hurt just shouldn’t be felt. Life should be easy, carefree, fun. 

So that is what Stiles made it for himself, and he wasn’t here for Derek trying to complicate it somehow by trying to get to know Stiles or something. They weren’t friends, they weren’t much of anything, and Derek would do well to remember that. 

=*=

Of course, because this was Stiles’ life, Derek had to be in the eatery where they all usually ate, and Scott had to notice him and call him over. 

“Shh, what the fuck, Scott!” Stiles hissed as Derek turned around, and Stiles groaned, banging his head on the table. What was his life?

And Derek actually came over, and just…why? Why him? 

“Derek, hi! How are you?” 

“Um, fine,” Derek said, and Stiles just kept his head on the table, too mortified to lift it yet. 

“This is Stiles’ sex buddy,” Scott explained matter of factly to the rest, and Stiles stopped himself from groaning.

“Ah, so you’re the guy Stiles is fucking on the regular,” Erica said, and Stiles finally got with the program, sitting up to smack Scott on the shoulder for doing this to him.  
“Derek, sit, join us!” Scott said, ignoring Stiles like he always did when it came to Derek.

“What,” Stiles said, shocked, not quite believing his ears. 

“No, no, that’s fine. I don’t want to intrude,” Derek said quickly.

“No, no, sit!” Erica said, pulling out the chair at the end of the table, and Stiles saw Derek try to back away before Erica grabbed Derek’s arm. “We want to meet you, pleaseee!” 

“Erica,” Stiles snapped before he could stop himself. What the fuck was she doing? Did his friends not know how to mind their own business at all?

“Don’t be an asshole, Stiles. Let him join us.” 

Stiles just threw up his hands in defeat, looking up at a clearly uncomfortable Derek. “Sorry about this, man.”

Derek just shrugged, not looking at Stiles as he sat. 

“So!” Scott said, and proceeded to introduce everyone to Derek, and why did this feel like it was his friends meeting his boyfriend? Derek was not his fucking boyfriend.

Stiles found himself glaring at Scott, cursing him internally for doing this to him, his best friend, his brother, his compadre. Wasn’t it supposed to be bros before…fuck buddies or whatever?

“So, Derek, tell us about yourself,” Erica said, leaning toward Derek. And why the hell was she so interested in Derek?

“Um…not much to tell,” Derek said, and Stiles sighed, wondering to himself what the point to this was. His friends had never done this to him before, so why now? Why Derek? It was grating on Stiles’ nerves.

“Oh, come on!” Erica rolled her eyes. “Tell us about your family, stuff like that.”

“I don’t-“ Derek started. 

“Erica, he’s not my boyfriend, so you can stop playing twenty questions,” Stiles cut in, losing his already short patience. 

“I asked him one-” 

“It doesn’t matter!” Stiles snapped, not able to take it anymore. It all felt so suffocating to Stiles. His friends suddenly giving a shit about his fucks and butting into his affairs, making Stiles uncomfortable and tense and not happy, when he’s told them time and again to leave it alone, and the whole Derek thing was becoming a lot more complicated than Stiles ever wanted it to be, and he was just done, done with the twist in his gut, the tightness he felt in his chest. He was just..sick of it.

Erica’s face hardened, glaring at Stiles, who glared back with equal intensity until he just…gave up, deflating as he leaned back in his chair. Why did he have to deal with all this? He had one night stands and fuck-buddies-only for a reason, and a good one at that. 

“I have to go,” Derek said then, scraping his chair against the floor and not looking at anyone as he thew his food away and left, and Stiles couldn’t help but stare at him until he was gone. 

Angry, Stiles looked back at his friends, who were now looking at Stiles. 

“Can’t you guys just stay out of it?” 

“No, we can’t,” Lydia said curtly, crossing her arms. “We care about you, so we can't just 'stay out of it.'”

 “You left my fucks alone before! What’s changed now, huh?” Stiles felt like he was on the verge of yelling, and he hated the unpleasant feeling in his gut. 

None of them said anything to that, looked away from Stiles, not meeting his eyes at any cost, and Stiles let out a frustrated groan, gathered his things and left.

=*=

Stiles went to Derek’s dorm for their next fuck, which rarely happens, and he’s worked himself up a little by the time he gets to Derek’s door. 

His friends were out of line the week before, not just to Stiles, but to Derek, and Derek didn’t deserve that semi-ambush by them, especially by Scott and Erica.

Stiles felt strangely nervous, and when Derek opened the door, Stiles said, “sorry about my friends last time,” and pushed past Derek into his room.

“It was fine,” Derek shrugged, closing the door and turning around to face Stiles.

“You sure? Because they were totally out of line, acting like you-”

“Mattered?” And that stopped Stiles short. 

It felt like Stiles had been punched in the gut, and his face fell, his arms falling listlessly to his sides, not being able to take his eyes away from Derek’s. Stiles wasn’t able to say anything for a few long, tense moments before he said, “acting like you were my boyfriend,” which is what he was going to say. That’s what his friends had been acting like Derek was the whole time, so he wasn’t sure where Derek was coming from, why he had said that, and he still couldn’t look away, not able to stop himself from searching Derek’s face for a reason why he said that, anything that could make him understand. 

“Of course, I know. I’m just in a bad mood right now, that’s all,” Derek shrugged, crossed his arms over his chest, the very air of calm and collected. 

“Right,” Stiles said, not believing Derek at all, but not knowing why. And why was he thinking so much about this? Stiles felt so confused and he hated feeling confused. 

Derek cleared his throat, bringing Stiles out of his thoughts. “Look, are you here for a fuck or was that all you wanted?” 

And Stiles…Stiles didn’t really know, right now. He was finally able to look away from Derek, but only for a second before he was looking back at him, like his eyes were drawn to Derek. He found himself taking a step forward without a conscious thought to it.

Stiles opened his mouth to tell Derek that he wasn’t sure why he was here, that he wasn’t sure what he wanted right now, when he caught up with himself, remembering that he was here for something, and he had nothing to be confused about. His friends had just muddied up the waters, is all, treating Derek like a boyfriend, and Stiles had had no idea how to handle that, as he had never had to deal with that before.

 Yeah, that’s all it was. Stiles’ head was clear, and he had nothing to worry about. Nothing had changed, and nothing would change. And if it did, Stiles would end it as simple as that. This was still easy, and he wouldn’t let his friends make it hard or complicated or muddled. 

With a nod to Derek as much as to himself, Stiles pushed any confusion away and got to what he’d come here for. “Yeah, fuck me? I’ve been craving your cock up my ass for days,” and it was true, he had been, so he didn’t know why he didn’t feel his normal confidence or cockiness when saying it, and why Derek stepping into his space made his heartbeat stutter. 

Then Derek was pulling Stiles into him with a hand on the back of his head, kissing the life out of him, and Stiles forgot about all of it except Derek’s magnificent lips. Taking Derek’s shirt into his hands, he pulls them toward Derek’s bed eagerly, and when they fall back onto the bed, Derek’s weight on top of Stiles feels comforting in a way it never has before. 

But again, Stiles doesn’t think about it, just lets himself feel. 

He breathes heavily as Derek pulls back to take off his shirt, and Stiles is struck with just how beautiful Derek is, which he’s surprised he’s never really noticed before. His hotness, yes, but never his beauty. 

Derek comes back on top of Stiles, and Stiles can’t look away, again, from Derek’s eyes, finds himself reaching up to touch Derek’s chest. 

Then Derek kisses Stiles and Stiles thinks only of Derek’s body and the pleasure it brings him.

=*=

Things between them stay the same after that, for which Stiles is grateful. 

His friends don’t really bring up Derek anymore, and Derek doesn’t ask any questions or try to get to know Stiles or anything. 

The sex does get surprisingly better, though, and Stiles likes to think that it was under his…tutelage, that Derek became so much better in the sack. 

He even sucked Stiles off better than before, somehow able to draw it out until Stiles was left a yelling, shaking mess, coming hard and whimpering when he looked down and saw Derek taking it all, mouth never leaving Stiles’ cock. And when he then went on to lift Stiles’ hips and eat him out more expertly than he’d ever done before, Stiles was left in a pile of orgasmic goo, unable to move for a long time after, which left Derek smug, and Stiles couldn’t even lift his arm to smack him in retaliation. 

Best fuck buddy _ever._

Stiles is a little surprised that he and Derek have lasted as long as they have, about five months or so, but it’s good, and Stiles hasn’t gotten bored of Derek, which is a plus. The longest a sex buddy had lasted for him before Derek was three months. 

Stiles even found himself seeking out Derek one day, having already stopped at Derek’s dorm and finding out he wasn’t there, his roommate telling Stiles than he’d went to the library to study. 

Stiles smiled when he saw Derek studying at a table in the library, all studious looking and shit. It was kind of adorable.

He surprised himself when he came up behind Derek and covered his eyes, letting out a soft, “hey.” 

Derek turned around, Stiles letting his hands fall from his eyes, and he smiled up at Stiles, who felt his heart stutter again. “Hey.” 

“Want to go hook up in the stacks?” Stiles grinned and wiggled his eyebrows, and he felt like fist pumping when Derek grinned back and nodded in the affirmative. 

=*=

Stiles found himself having one of the best fucks of his life in a deserted part of the library, Derek pressed up against his back as he fucked in and out of Stiles over and over again, Stiles scrambling to hold onto the wall Derek had him pinned to, and finding nothing. But when Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles and pulled him further back against him, Stiles let his head fall back onto Derek’s shoulder, gasping at the feel of Derek fucking him so thoroughly, holding onto him so tightly. 

He couldn't help but moan when Derek kissed down his exposed neck, feeling a desire to get even closer to Derek, to have Derek sink deeper inside him, and tries to do just that. 

Derek even moved one hand down to take Stiles’ cock in his hand and is he trying to kill Stiles? 

 Stiles moaned loudly, the sound echoing in their quiet corner excluding them from the rest of the world, and when Derek put his other hand over Stiles’ mouth to keep him quiet, that just made it all the more hot, which just lead to Stiles moaning louder. 

Derek picks up his speed, pistoning into Stiles, and Stiles can’t hold the whimpers back this time, feels surrounded in the best way possible.

“Stiles, I’m gonna-I’m-fuck, I’m going to come!” Derek whispered harshly into Stiles’ ear, and Stiles had never felt this desperate to get off before, which was surprising, always so surprising with Derek, and Stiles fucked back onto Derek’s cock and forward into his hand. Stiles basked in the friction, in the feeling of fucking into something and getting fucked at the same time. 

The air felt intense, thick, and when Derek took his hand off Stiles’ mouth and put it around his waist as leverage to fuck Stiles even harder, speeding up his hand on Stiles’ cock, Stiles - who was normally not much one for saying anything so close to orgasm - couldn’t stop a shout of “ah! Fuck!” from leaving his mouth. He was moaning just as loud moments later when he came, barely registering his come landing on the wall in front of him. 

He felt Derek following soon after, and Stiles whimpered when Derek bit his shoulder, finishes coming with one last thrust into Derek’s hand before practically going limp in Derek’s arms, wishing he had the energy to moan at the feeling of Derek finishing coming inside him, thrusts tapering off. 

Stiles whimpered again as Derek sort of collapsed onto his back. “Holy fuck,” Stiles breathed, felt Derek nodding against his shoulder, and that just about sums it all up, really.

A few minutes later, Stiles felt Derek straighten and slowly pull out of Stiles, going to throw the condom away, and Stiles felt…he felt fucking awesome. 

He turned around to lean against the wall, not even caring if he leaned against his own come on the wall, feeling loose and relaxed and buzzing, too high on his orgasm to care about pulling up his pants. 

“That was definitely one of our top five fucks,” Stiles said, looking at Derek as he smiled and fastened his jeans closed. No, that had to without a doubt be the best fuck they’d ever had, but Stiles was playing it safe. And they had so many more fucks ahead of them, who knew if they would somehow be able to top it? Anything was possible.

Derek then walked up to Stiles and pulled his jeans up for him, tucked Stiles into them and hey, that’s new. Stiles bit his lip at Derek touching him, felt a low thrum through his body as Derek zipped him up. 

“So,” Stiles said, took ahold of Derek’s shirt and pulled him in close, liked the feeling of Derek being close to him. Derek had a smell that was so uniquely him, so nice. Stiles loved his smell, felt comfortable surrounded in it. “You’ve definitely improved.” Understatement of the century, in Stiles’ opinion. 

Derek raised an eyebrow at that. “You saying I wasn’t good before?”

“Oh, you were good, you were really fucking good,” Stiles grinned, because oh yeah, Derek had always been a good fuck, that had always been the case. Derek smiled, leaned in close to Stiles, and Stiles felt himself moving forward, eyes on Derek’s lips, feeling an urge to kiss him, and that stopped Stiles right in his tracks, blinking and pulling back, breaking the…moment or whatever the fuck it was. And good thing, too.

Stiles didn’t…they weren’t fucking right now, they were just…talking or whatever, and Stiles didn’t kiss his conquests outside of fucking, it was just a unspoken rule he had for himself, and he’d almost just…he had…

Stiles shook his head. No need to get those confusing, complicated thoughts again. No way.

Stiles looked down, saw his hands resting on Derek’s chest, not being able to move them but wondering why he hadn’t yet. “It’s just, now you’re pretty mind-blowing at it.” Which was so unbelievably true.

“I thought I was already mind-blowing,” and yeah, that’s…that’s Derek pouting right in that second. 

Stiles couldn't stop himself from laughing at his cuteness, couldn't stop himself from pulling Derek in closer, felt a thrumming throughout his body, had to resist the urge to give Derek an eskimo kiss. What the fuck was happening to him?

“You were, but now you’re just…more…” Stiles had to stop to swallow past the lump in his throat, and he looked up at Derek, into his eyes, feeling like his brain was slowing down, going through that muddied water all over again, “…mind-blowing, I mean,” Stiles whispered for some reason, wondering why he hadn’t just got dressed and left yet like he usually does. 

Derek smiled again and fuck, his smile is…it’s whatever. “Good to know.”

Stiles smiled, felt like there was something in his chest trying to pull him forward. And it’s definitely time for Stiles to leave now. He’d stayed way too long anyway.

He pulled away from Derek then, and hates the way his body feels like it didn’t want to pull away from him. 

Stiles picked up his bag, turned around to face Derek, which he’d also never really done before if he didn’t have to, and Derek turned to face him, slowly. Stiles felt like he should say something, and he didn't know why he felt that way. 

But all that came out is, “bye” as he slowly started to back away, and Derek nodded, his tone soft when he said “bye” and Stiles finally turned around to leave, only to find himself looking back at Derek twice before he finally left.

What the fuck.

=*=

Stiles felt like he had a problem, and he hated that, he hated it a lot. 

Suddenly, Stiles wasn’t so sure that he and Derek would have a lot of fucks in the future, and that saddened him as much as it made him angry. And he couldn’t figure out why he felt angry or why he felt sad. 

It was messing him up.

Derek Hale was messing him up. He somehow was making things complicated and hard and confusing. 

The reality was that they were fuck buddies, nothing more, and it felt somehow like Derek was trying, unintentionally or not, to make it more, and that scared Stiles a lot.

He needed something uncomplicated. He needed a fuck without any…whatever. Without any stuff. Derek had a lot of stuff that Stiles didn’t need. 

So at a party two days later, Stiles jumped at the first opportunity to fuck someone, some guy who was moderately attractive. 

Stiles knew Derek was there, had seen him hanging out with Erica earlier, which was interesting. Stiles didn’t want to know why they were hanging out. Didn’t think about it as he made out with the dude. He was good, he’d do. 

For some reason though, it felt weird going upstairs with the guy, and it felt even weirder fucking him. Stiles found his thoughts straying to Derek, flashes of images of Derek fucking him against the wall in the library, flashes of fucking Derek in his bed, flashes of looking up at Derek, feeling Derek’s body against him, flashes of Derek kissing him while he fucked him, hand gentle on his cheek, thumb caressing it softly. 

Stiles got out of there as soon as it was over, feeling wrong and off balance. He didn’t look back at the guy, and that was as it should be. That was how it went, how Stiles did things.

He came back downstairs and saw Derek hanging out and talking to Erica again, and felt an itch between his shoulder blades looking at them. 

Derek didn’t look at Stiles when he joined them, didn’t speak to him, and Stiles’ stomach fell, feeling strange. Stiles shrugged his shoulders, trying to rid himself of the feeling. 

He did catch Derek’s eye once, trying to decipher the look on his face, in his eyes, wondering what he was feeling, what he was thinking, which he’d never wondered about before. He didn’t know why he was wondering now. 

Later, Stiles felt a need for Derek, wanted to be with Derek and fucking him instead of just remembering it and seeing it in his mind, but Derek said he wasn’t feeling well, and Stiles hated the slight feeling of hurt and rejection he felt in response.

“Oh, okay, cool. See you later,” Stiles said, playing it off like it didn’t matter, that he didn’t care. And he shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t. He hadn’t before, he barely gave Derek a thought outside of his body and what pleasure it could bring him for months, and it was unsettling to be thinking of more than just that now. 

Stiles should probably end it, because as much as he tried to deny it, things weren’t easy anymore, they weren’t just fun. 

But the thought of not getting to be with Derek felt worse than continuing their arrangement, so he didn’t stop it. 

=*=

Instead, he went to Derek’s dorm, and the minute his roommate was gone, Stiles jumped him. 

He was determined to get it back to the way it was, the way it was supposed to be, so he fucked Derek, fucked him from behind, and he craved to touch more than just Derek’s hips, to lean over him and kiss his neck, his shoulder, to wrap his arms around his waist, to wrap his hand around his cock and make sure he got off, but he didn't, because that wasn't them. They weren't…anything.

He goes fast and hard, didn’t speak. He just pistoned in and out of Derek, determined to come, because that was all it was, a fun and easy way to get off. 

He does come, and it’s so good, so so good, and Stiles hated that, hated that it felt so good, that his orgasm rippled throughout his body. 

He hated that it took him more time than it should to get his muscles to work enough to stand up and get dressed, he hated that he felt unsteady on his feet as he left.

 But more than anything, he hated that he left without a backward glance.

=*=

Stiles doesn’t think about it, because there’s nothing to think about. 

He went to a bar a couple nights later, and no one looked remotely appealing to him, and that fear came back, that fear that all he can really think about is Derek Hale. He left the bar without anyone, and he felt just as good about that as he felt bad. 

It would all go away eventually, these unusual…thoughts he was having about Derek. All he had to do was ignore them and they’d go away. Simple as that.  
 Even though he couldn’t ignore Derek. 

Stiles knocked on Derek’s door a few days after that, feeling a need to be buried deep inside Derek. 

“Hey, Derek, you wanna-” Stiles started when Derek opened his door, but froze when he saw Erica, his supposed friend, on Derek’s bed. What.

She turned and grinned when she saw Stiles, and Stiles felt something ugly twist in his gut. “Hey, here for a bootycall?” And she actually leered. Stiles looked to Derek, then to Erica, then back to Derek, before settling on Erica, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on between them. 

“Yeah, actually,” Stiles held his chin high, prepared for…something. He’s not sure what he’s prepared for, but he feels the need to be anyway. Stiles’ eyes wander back to Derek, and that ugly feeling makes the next words come out of his mouth, “stealing my friends now?” He regrets saying them, hates the way he says them, but Derek just shrugged in response. 

Feeling a certain desperation for some reason, Stiles blurted out, “look Derek, you’re not my boyfriend, you know, you don’t have to befriend my friends.” Or whatever the hell it was he and Erica were doing. 

“I’m-”

“Oh please, Stiles,” Erica snorted, standing up and closing a nail polish bottle. What, had they been gossiping and giggling like school girls at a sleepover? “I like Derek, and I would have liked Derek if I had met him without you somewhere in the equation with whatever you two are, so you can stop while you’re ahead.”

Stiles shifted on his feet, couldn't stop himself from looking at Derek again before pushing past him into the room and turning to Erica, who was putting on her shoes.

When did they become comfortable enough to have shoes off together and sit on the same bed while Erica painted her toenails? Why were they even that comfortable together? 

That twisted feeling was rearing it’s ugly head. 

“You have a boyfriend, you know.” Erica should probably remember that when she was fucking Derek, Stiles thought nastily. 

That was a stupid thing to say though when Erica looked up and burned a hole right through Stiles’ skull with the force of her glare, looking positively outraged. 

“Fuck you, Stilinski,” Erica spat out, standing up and looking like she was about to punch Stiles, and yeah, he would deserve it. “Derek is my friend and nothing more. Not that you should care either way though, right?” 

Stiles narrowed his eyes, didn't back down. He didn't like what she was implying one bit, even though she had a point. Not that Stiles was going to admit that to her. 

Erica stormed off, but not before kissing Derek on the cheek and promising to hang out with him later, and that just sends Stiles fuming for reasons he couldn't really explain. He felt like yelling at his close friend right now to back the fuck off his…Derek, and that’s just…that’s-  
   
“Um…you okay?” Derek asked, voice cautious, and Stiles blinked, looked at Derek, and his cheeks felt hot.

He felt really foolish for some reason.

“Yeah…yeah, I’m fine, lets fuck,” Stiles said, pushing anything but Derek and his body out of his mind. He was just going to ignore it, that was the best solution.

It was working totally fine, and he fucked Derek again, and it felt amazing, Derek’s ass doing fantastic things to his cock, and it was just like how it should be, how it should always be.

He didn't let himself collapse onto Derek when he’d finished, just held onto Derek’s hips before pulling out, and he hated pulling out of Derek’s delicious heat when his cock was so sensitive. 

He got up, ignoring the wobbly feeling of his legs, and he couldn’t help the way his pulse stuttered again when Derek grabbed his wrist. 

 “What?” Stiles said, turning to look at Derek, voice as flat as he could make it, and he couldn’t quite get his eyes to meet Derek’s all the way. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Derek asked, and his soft, worried voice did things to Stiles, and he had to get of there. 

“Peachy,” Stiles bit out, and he pulled his wrist out of Derek’s grip before hurriedly putting on his clothes and leaving.

=*=

The week before finals turns out to be the worst week Stiles has had in a long, long time when Derek shows up to the diner they’re all hanging out in. 

He had tentatively looked at Stiles before sitting at the other end of the table. 

Everyone chatted up Derek, and Stiles felt an anger settle into his gut, hating all the emotion swirling inside him at the sight of Derek hanging out with his friends, as if he belonged there, as if he belonged there with Stiles. Like he was his boyfriend or something.

When Scott invites Derek to hang out with them after they eat, Stiles glared at him, feeling a panic start to settle over him.

Derek wasn't Stiles’ boyfriend, so why was he there with all of them? Why did he accept Scott’s offer? 

Why was he walking with them to the quad, standing next to Erica and chatting with all of them? 

Stiles sat a little bit away from the others, mind whirling with too many thoughts all at once, an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach. 

When Derek sat next to him, Stiles looked at him and then away, feeling like it was better to look at other students walking by. 

“Stiles,” and Stiles shuddered slightly at the sound of his name coming from Derek. “You don’t seem okay.” 

Stiles wasn’t okay. “I’m fine,” Stiles lied. 

“Look, if you don’t want me here, just ask me to leave, and I will.”

Stiles did want Derek there, and that was the problem. Shaking his head, Stiles admitted, “that’s not what I want.”

“You sure? Because you’re sure acting like that’s what you want,” Derek said, sounding upset and unhappy. 

“You’re just my sex buddy, Derek,” Stiles said, finding himself holding onto that last bit of fact, feeling like he was saying that as proof that he was completely fine and nothing was wrong. 

“I know,” Derek nodded.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Stiles repeated, feeling his resolve start to waver, finds himself looking over at Derek, and his heart pounds when Derek leans into him, hears his blood rushing in his ears as Derek kisses him, and Stiles holds back a whimper. 

Here he is, letting Derek kiss him outside of their trysts, and he didn't quite know why, couldn't really admit it to himself. He felt like he was drowning and he was holding onto the last bit of the ship that was keeping him afloat. 

There was something _real_ about the kiss. Stiles felt like crying when Derek cupped his cheeks and pulled him deeper into the kiss, and Stiles was just hanging onto the ship with the tips of his fingers. 

He loses himself in Derek’s lips, and like all those times before, the world falls away and he feels like he's surrounded by Derek, feels like there was a war within himself that wanted to pull closer to Derek at the same time he wanted to pull away. 

“Wooo! Hey lovebirds, get a room!” Stiles heard Erica call out, and he pulled back, looked over to his friends who he forgot were there, and now his heart is pounding in fear. 

Lovebirds, that’s what she called him and Derek. 

When had this come to that? What had changed? Why had it changed? 

It shouldn’t be changing, it should be the same as the first time they were together, where Derek was really good, but not exactly mind-blowing, and he was a fun time, and that was all he was.

Stiles felt that desperation again, fought to hold onto that last bit before he went under. “Come on, lets get a room,” Stiles said to Derek, pulled him away from his catcalling friends as quickly as possible. 

They were just fuck buddies. That’s all they would ever be.

Holding onto that thought, Stiles pushed Derek up against the door the minute they got to his dorm, kissing him rough and hard, demanding entrance with his tongue, as all their kisses should be. That kiss on the quad was just an anomaly.

They got naked quickly, stripped each other of their clothes, and Stiles tried to turn Derek over onto his stomach when Derek stopped him, looked up at him as he whispered, “can I fuck you?”

And Stiles hesitated, and he knows why. Fuck, he knows exactly why. But he’s determined for this to be like it’s supposed to be, how they used to be, and so after a moment he nodded, switching positions with Derek, and no, fucking face to face was too personal, so Stiles tried to turn onto his stomach, but Derek stopped him.

“Can I see you?”

And damn him, damn Derek for doing this to him. “Yes,” Stiles said, because fuck it, just fuck it. Stiles knew that there was a part in him that wanted it, wanted that face to face connection.

Derek slid into him slowly, and Stiles couldn't stop the hitch of his breath. 

Derek started moving, and he was going slow, looking down at Stiles, and Stiles couldn’t take all these fucking emotions swimming in his mind, couldn’t take how he knew that not just a part of him wanted it like this, but that a large part of him wanted it, craved it.

Stiles couldn’t handle it, and so he took ahold of Derek’s neck and pushed his face into Stiles’ shoulder so he couldn’t look at Derek, and they loose that connection. 

“Faster,” Stiles commanded, needed it to be faster, needed it to just be a way to get off and nothing more. 

But Derek wasn’t listening. He just continued to slowly slide in and out of Stiles. “Come on, Derek, fuck me,” Stiles said, and he hated the way his voice sounded, like this mattered to him, like it was affecting him. Stiles pulls Derek deeper inside him with his hands on Derek’s ass, and he flashes back to the first time Derek fucked him and he had done that, remembers how it had been just a quick fuck, a way to get some pleasure without the pain. “Derek, come on. Harder,” Stiles’ voice snapped out of him, because he needed it, he needed it hard and rough and impersonal. This was all…it was becoming too much for Stiles to take.

But Derek didn’t go faster. 

And Stiles knew for sure now that he wasn’t just a fuck buddy to Derek anymore. 

“Damn it, Derek, move!” Stiles shouted, and he wanted to scream when Derek moved, but didn’t go any faster, just slid in and out, in and out, slowly, as if he was…as if he wanted to…as if he was...making… “Derek…Derek, don’t,” Stiles pleaded, snapped his hips up fast, hard, tried to show Derek the pace he wanted, the pace he needed.

Derek took Stiles’ hips and stilled them before he could move again, and Stiles cursed internally at how nice his hands felt on Stiles’ skin. 

“Stiles, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

And it’s not okay, not one bit. “Just fucking fuck me, Derek, you asshole!” Stiles practically shouted, and he felt the tears in his eyes, pressed his lips together to keep in a sob. 

Derek pulled away from Stiles’ shoulder, and then he looked down at Stiles, eyes so tender, so full of feeling that Stiles could barely stand it.

“Stiles, it’s okay,” and then Derek cupped Stiles’ cheek, and Stiles couldn’t help but lean into it, draw comfort from it, and no, he wasn't supposed to do that. He wasn't supposed to want that comfort, so he jerks his head away from Derek’s hand. 

“Why won’t you fuck me?” Stiles gritted out, and he almost breaks when Derek just smiles and leans down, kissing Stiles’ lips, which he hadn’t realized were trembling. 

“I am fucking you.”

“No, you’re not,” Stiles said, and he admits it to himself right in that moment, lets go of the denial. Stiles looked into Derek’s eyes, and he knew without a doubt that Derek had started to make love to him. And Stiles also knew right then and there that it was time to end it. Stiles pushed Derek away, said, “Get off me, now.” 

Derek does so immediately, and Stiles curses himself for shuddering when Derek pulls out, that his ass clenches at the now empty feeling. 

He felt himself shaking as he pulled on his boxers. 

“I need you to leave,” Stiles said, voice flat and lacking emotion as he pulled up his jeans.

“Stiles, I don’t understand,” Derek said, standing up from Stiles’ bed, and it just makes Stiles angrier at how he had looked like he belonged there.

“Fuck you, Derek. Just, fuck you,” Stiles spat, looked around for his shirt. 

“Stiles, what did I do?” Derek asked as Stiles found his shirt, pulled it on.

Ha! What hadn’t Derek done?

“That was not fucking!” Stiles shouted, unable to stop himself. “That was you…fuck…going all slow and lovey dovey on me!”

“Stiles, I had my cock in you, it was up your ass and it was moving in and out of you-”

“Yeah, but slowly and all intense like we were fucking making love or something!” Stiles yelled, and it wasn’t _like_ they had been making love, they had been making love. Stiles saw Derek’s clothes, picked them up and shoved them against Derek’s chest, who caught them. “We are sex buddies, that’s what we agreed, I told you this was just sex, and I didn’t want a fucking boyfriend! So stop trying to be one!” 

“I’m not trying anything-”

“Oh, the fuck you aren’t!” Stiles yelled again, and he hated that he couldn’t stop himself from crying. “I didn’t ask for a fucking boyfriend, and if that’s what you wanted, you have have told me long ago after the first time!”

“Stiles-”

“Do you have feelings for me?” Stiles blurted out, needed to know for sure, and Derek’s silence and somewhat guilty look told Stiles all he needed to know. 

“Oh fuck,” Stiles whispered, felt his panic rise. “This was…I should stopped this a long time ago. This just…it’s too much.”

“Stiles, I never asking for anything, I knew what I was getting into and it was all fine at first.”

“At first,” Stiles said, felt like laughing incredulously, ran his fingers through his hair nervously. This had to end, now. “Derek, this, whatever this was between us, it’s over. We’re done.”

 Stiles saw the hurt flash across Derek’s face, and he felt like shit when he saw tears well up in Derek’s eyes. But this thing between them had not been what Stiles had agreed to. 

“Couldn’t you have continued to not notice me?” Derek asked feebly.

Stiles felt immediate confusion at Derek’s words, didn't know what on earth he was talking about. “Huh?”

“Things were fine when you looked at me but didn’t really see me, ya know?” Derek looked down, proceeded to start to put his clothes on. 

“What are you talking about?” Stiles said, lowering his arms.

“Before, when you just saw me as this hot body to get off with and nothing more. When you didn’t look at me like you actually think about me outside of us fucking, when you didn’t seem to care how I fucked you, just as long as you got off. When you…didn’t really care to see me," Derek shrugged, and Stiles felt Derek’s words like a physical blow. How long had Derek felt this way? How long had he been looking at Stiles and Stiles hadn’t been looking back? Stiles felt guilt, even though logically he knew he didn’t have to feel that way about Derek, about anyone, and it was their deal if they felt that way, their own responsibility. But Stiles felt it anyway, and he felt like a huge asshole for having treated Derek that way. The least Stiles could have done was treat Derek with respect, which he knows he didn’t do. 

“I mean, I know we’ve never had any in depth conversations, so could I have possibly fallen in love with you, right?” 

And then Stiles’ whole world view seems to shift on its axis, and his eyes widen, feels his heart start to beat faster in complete and utter fear. Derek was in love with him? He thought there had just been feelings of deep liking, a lot of romantic feelings, like a desire for a relationship and shit, not full on…love, like deep love. Stiles could barely breathe. 

Derek smiled, and the smile looked sad. “But I just couldn’t help it, you know? I couldn’t help but want to know more about you and have in depth conversations with you after sex, before sex, outside of sex…and wanting to know about your parents and where you grew up and what is was like and what your favorite color is and when your birthday is and what kind of songs you like and…more.” 

Stiles had taken one, two, three steps back, heart pounding in his chest, shaking in fear. Because this…this was a full on love confession from Derek, and Stiles had never been on the receiving end of one of those and all he could think about was giving in and being in a relationship with Derek and then everything going terribly wrong with Stiles left standing there, heart being stomped on after he’d trusted someone else with it, and he couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t do it. 

“I couldn’t help but fall in love with your smile and your laugh and wit and your sarcasm and…your loyalty. You make me laugh and you’re fun and interesting and…amazing. And I know you’d only be more amazing if I got know you even better, got to know the real you.” Derek said all of this as he finished putting on his clothes, and Stiles felt his heart thump painfully at the sad look on Derek’s face. “But that’s my fault, for becoming a walking, talking movie cliché and falling in love with my fuck buddy,” Derek shrugged.

“Stop saying you’re in love with me,” Stiles said desperately, clenching his eyes closed. He could barely breathe, barely think straight with those words rolling around in his head. “Please.” 

“Sorry,” Derek said, and Stiles almost gasped when he felt Derek walk up to him, and he opens his eyes, can’t stop a tear from falling down his cheek. “I’m sorry for everything, and for doing this to you,” and why does Derek have to be such a good guy, such a sweet and caring guy? Why couldn’t he have been an asshole? 

Derek leans forward, and Stiles is expecting a kiss, prepares himself for a kiss, craves it as much as he dreads it, but Derek only kisses his cheek, and Stiles leans into it, savors it, because he knows it is the last kiss he’ll ever get from Derek. “See you around, Stiles.”

Stiles couldn’t open his mouth to reply, and it felt like his heart was breaking as he watched Derek leave, the door closing softly behind him worse than if he had slammed it, and it makes Stiles flinch. 

It was ironic how Stiles had been trying to prevent his own heartbreak, but it felt like his heart had been broken anyway.

Standing there alone in his dorm room, the silence felt suffocating, and it only took five minutes for Stiles to wonder if he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life. 

=*=

Stiles spent the next week miserable and feeling alone, and he shuts out Scott’s attempts to talk about it, not sure if he could take his best friend’s judgmental look when he told him just how badly he had screwed up what could have been the best thing to ever happen to him.

And after finals were over, which Stiles felt like he barely passed, he was at a party, but he had no desire to see anyone, no desire to look for his next fuck, because for the first time in so long, he didn’t want anyone else, and all he wanted was Derek, all he can think about was Derek.

And when he caught Derek’s eye at one point from where he was leaning against the wall in a corner, it hits him and he just knows without a doubt that somehow along the way, he had fallen in love with Derek Hale. 

But fear clouds his mind, freezes him up, and he can only look down and away from Derek, feeling his heart squeeze in pain, and when he gains the courage to look back up, Derek is gone. 

=*=

Stiles went back to Beacon Hills for the summer and interned at the police station, mostly just answering the phone, filing things, and greeting people at the front, and it kept him occupied if nothing else, and he got to see his dad, which was always a plus. 

Ending things with Derek was supposed to have prevented things from getting hard and painful and sucktastic, but it didn’t, because Stiles had already been in too deep by the time he had ended it, and that was only because it had taken him too long to realize he had any feelings, and too long to stop denying said feelings. 

It hadn’t started out like it does in the movies, but it sure as hell ended up like the movies, where the couple falls in love, but one of them is a moron who can’t deal with their feelings and screws everything up and there is heartbreak all around, and both end up miserable and alone. Only Stiles was the moron in this situation, and you could bet your ass that there were no happy ending for Stiles and Derek.

That thought only made Stiles even more miserable.

About halfway through the summer, he tried to move on, he tried to get back to what had made him who he was, who he had liked being, only when he got into their bedroom and they started kissing him, all Stiles could think about was Derek, all he could feel was Derek’s hands on him, all he could see behind his eyelids was Derek starting to make love to him and he wished that it was Derek with him right that second, and he had to pull away, and he felt like he had cheated on Derek, and that thought made his stomach roll unpleasantly, and even though he hadn’t, it had still felt like it, and Stiles hated that feeling. He had run out of that person’s apartment like a bat out of hell. 

Stiles realized that night that he wanted to be more than who he was, who he had been. He wanted to be someone worthy of Derek Hale. 

Stiles was so done for. 

=*=

Stiles was nervous to come back to school, nervous to see Derek again, and he chats with Lydia at the opening party of the year, and it was easy, she had always been a good friend of his, she made him laugh with her wit and intelligence, and she tells him casually that, “Derek Hale is staring at you, three o’clock” and Stiles had to stop himself from looking too quickly and being obvious. 

He instead looked around casually, and he was able to find Derek pretty easily, only he was walking away. 

Stiles followed his figure with his eyes until he disappeared from his sight. 

=*=

It took Stiles weeks to drum up the courage to approach Derek, and he figured out how he was going to handle it before he did.

“I just want to try and be friends with him,” Stiles said to Scott, who he had finally opened up to over the summer, and he knew everything now.

“You sure that’s all you want?” Scott asked, not unkindly from his own bed. They’d requested each other as roommates for the second year in a row. 

Stiles sighed, looked over at Scott. “It’s not all that I want, but it’s all that I deserve right now. I can’t just try and dive right back into things with Derek right now. And it’s time we got to know each other, without there being the element of sex. That is, if he still wants to get to know me.”

“Of course he does, Stiles,” Scott assured him. “He’s head over heels in love you, anyone can see it.”

Stiles’ heart skips a beat at the thought of Derek being in love with him, and it doesn’t do it out of fear now, but out of happiness and excitement, and the possibility of being with Derek someday made him feel warm, and he was unable to control his grin. 

Because Stiles had taken the time over the summer to grow like an adult should, and started to settle his own fears. 

 The thing was, life wasn’t easy and pain free and just fun. Life was hard, it was the everyday, it was difficult and it sometimes it sucked, but it was worth it. Getting any happiness you could in a fucked up world was worth it, and there was a Catch-22 where it felt like he had all the time in the world to live his life at the same time he felt like he should live his life to the fullest everyday because he just might die tomorrow. 

And he wanted the rest of his life with Derek, whether he got to be with him for seventy more years or one day. 

He loved Derek, and he would prove to him over time that they could possibly be great together. He wasn’t so afraid anymore, and he was ready to start living his life instead of coasting through it and just surviving. 

So he went up to Derek in the library, figured he would be there and he was happy to know he was right. Tentatively, Stiles started a conversation, and it felt good that Derek wasn’t shutting Stiles down. 

Derek took his plea to be friends well, and Stiles left happier than when he had come, happy to have Derek back in his life in away way he could have him.

=*=

It shouldn’t surprise Stiles how quickly they became friends after that, but it does. Of course there’s awkwardness at first that never quite goes away, but they handle it.

Stiles was worried everyday that Derek would move on and he would be with someone else, but it never happens, and Stiles felt relief everyday that Derek didn’t show up with someone. Stiles didn't even think about sleeping with anyone else or possibly dating anyone else. It was so far from his mind now when finding the next person to fuck had always been so close on his mind before. Before Derek.

Falling even more in love with Derek was easy, felt natural, and he didn’t know if he had ever laughed more, had more fun, and felt more happy than when he was around Derek. He made Stiles feel more alive, and Stiles felt like crap when he thinks about how he’d messed it all up over some misguided fear. He was still scared, as anyone would be, that he’d get hurt someday, more hurt than he already was, but it was a normal level of fear now, not anywhere close to what it had been and all because of some boy in high school breaking his heart who didn’t even seem all that important anymore and who was just a distant memory. 

He didn’t know if he'd ever get over Derek, but he was content to not even try at his point, still kind of fresh to the feeling, even if it had only been a few months since he’d realized it and was still hopeful for that one day when he and Derek might get together. 

It was the Thanksgiving break that finally brought about a change to things when at a party to celebrate their week off, Stiles saw Derek kissing some guy, and he felt the twist of jealousy in his gut. He found himself walking over to them before he could stop himself. 

“Hey Derek, buddy, who’s this?” Stiles asked, and he couldn’t help the glare he threw the guy's way, thought to himself that the guy wasn’t even that attractive and what did Derek see in the guy anyway? He seemed like nothing special. 

“Um…” Derek trailed off, looking at the guy, and that made Stiles’ eye twitch. 

“Billy,” the guy said with a smile, holding out his hand as if he wanted Stiles to shake it, which, ha! Funny. 

Willy dropped his hand awkwardly at Stiles’ rejection, and Stiles didn’t have the patience for this. 

“Yeah,” Stiles turned to Derek. “Hey Derek, I need you for something, come with me?” 

“Um, sure,” Derek nodded, and Stiles took his arm, dragged him away from Willy or whatever his name was. “So, what did you need me for?” Derek asked as Stiles found an empty bedroom on the first floor and thought, fuck it. He shook his head, just going for it and kissing Derek, pushing Derek back enough with his hands on Derek's arms that it closed the bedroom door, but he felt Derek stiffen, mouth unmoving against Stiles’, and Stiles pulled back. 

“Have you been drinking?” Derek asked, and Stiles shook his head. He hadn’t had one drink that night. “Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t you want a boyfriend or girlfriend?” Derek asked, and Stiles winced, stepped back from Derek.

“It’s…it’s complicated.” The thing was, Stiles did want a boyfriend. He wanted Derek to be his boyfriend. 

“I have time,” Derek murmured. 

Stiles sighed, rolled his shoulders to ward of the tension he felt forming in them. 

“Okay, so maybe it’s not that complicated,” Stiles bit his lip, thought about the painfully simple, ‘got my my heart broken, didn’t want to get it broken again’ story.

“Okay,” Derek nodded, and Stiles tried to think of where to start. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s fine,” Stiles said, turned and sat on the bed. “I’ve had one relationship in my whole entire life, and it ended horribly. I was heartbroken, he wasn’t. It’s so stupid,” Stiles shook his head, laughed shakily. “It’s so…common. Heartbreak. It happens to everyone. It’s a way of life, yada yada yada blah blah,” Stiles rolled his eyes. “But it doesn’t change the way it feels, to be heartbroken.”

“I know,” Derek said, and Stiles looked up, felt like his heart was breaking all over again at those two simple words. “Go on.” 

Stiles blinked, swallowed heavily before he looked down at the ground. “But I swore to myself that I would never, ever set myself up for that heartbreak again, that I would never let myself get emotionally attached, that I would get the pleasure without the pain,” Stiles let out a ragged breath, looked up at Derek. “Only, it didn’t work out, in the end.” No, it failed miserably, because Stiles had to go and fall in love.

“Because I did what I had been doing for years, my plan was full proof, and it had always worked before. No emotional attachments. I had even had a few sex buddies before you, although they never lasted as long as you and I did. But I was doing what I do best, with you,” Stiles looked up, then, “except it didn’t work. And I still got my heart broken in the end, except it was all my fucking fault this time.” The image of Derek walking away from Stiles still played over and over in his mind, as well as the heartbroken look on Derek’s face when he’d said that it was over between them. 

Stiles stood up but didn’t look at Derek, played with his fingers as he continued. “And I hurt you, too. All I did was cause hurt instead of preventing it. And I…I tried not to fall in love with you,” Stiles choked out, looked up at Derek. “It worked for awhile, but when you said that…when you basically said you thought you didn’t matter…fuck, I realized that you did matter. Do matter,” Stiles murmured, and he stepped up to Derek, still looking at him, thinking about just how much Derek mattered, how important he was. “And I tried so hard to fight it, and I was so fucking scared of that feeling, of loving you, and loving you more than I ever loved Danny, a whole fuckton more, and that just made it worse.”

Stiles took one last step into Derek’s personal space, felt the tension between them. 

“But now…now I had to go and become like…best friends with you, and just fall in love with you more. And seeing you kiss that guy…” Stiles clenched his jaw.

“You were jealous?” Derek asked, voice soft, small smile on his lips.

Stiles looked into Derek’s eyes. “I wanted to be the one kissing you out there, not him. I haven’t even been able to so much as touch anyone else in that way since last year, since that one guy at that party months before we even ended it. I tired, once,” Stiles admitted, wanted to shudder at how horrible it had felt to be kissing someone else. “But it just felt…gross and wrong and I felt like throwing up…because I just wanted you,” Stiles breathed, inched forward, eyes on Derek’s lips. “I just want you.”

Nothing had ever been more true.

Stiles went in for the kiss, and Derek didn’t stop him this time, and Stiles inwardly cheered as Derek kissed him back, sunk into the kiss, and it was one of the best kisses Stiles had ever had. Eventually, Stiles had to pull back for air, and he whispered, “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’m so sorry,” and meant it with every fiber of his being.

“It’s okay,” Derek murmured, and when Stiles looked at him pleadingly, Derek said, “I forgive you.”

And that had unknowingly been just the thing Stiles had wanted to hear, and it felt like he had permission now to kiss Derek as passionately and wildly as he liked, threading his fingers through Derek’s hair, feeling like the world was spinning.

When Derek pulled back at one point to say, “I love you,” Stiles laughed shakily, happily, cupped Derek’s cheeks. 

“I love you, too,” Stiles said and then proceeds to try and kiss the life out of Derek, felt giddy and happy and like all those stupid couples you scoffed and rolled your eyes at.

When they fell back onto the bed, it felt like it paralleled their first time together, only the big difference this time was that Stiles asks Derek to make love to him, and Derek wasn't just a fuck, he wasn’t just a hot body to get off with, he wasn't just a passing thought, he was everything. 

So in a way, it didn’t parallel their first time at all.

The thought made Stiles all the more happy.

=*=

“Oh god, oh god, Derek, shit, I’m gonna come,” Stiles gasped, thrusts speeding up as he felt his orgasm pool low in his gut, and he couldn't hold back a whimper, hands cupping Derek’s face as he kisses him, kisses his cheeks, his nose, his chin. 

“Fuck, do it, come inside me,” Derek grunted, and Stiles rested his forehead to Derek’s, brushed their noses together and reached up to wind his fingers through Derek’s hair, held onto it as his thrusts turned wild and desperate. 

“I lo-I love you,” Stiles gasped as he came, and Derek kissed Stiles hard, reached down to finish himself off, and with Stiles still thrusting through his orgasm, it didn’t take Derek long to follow behind Stiles, head thrown back in pleasure. 

Stiles collapsed onto Derek, and they laid there in each other’s arms, limbs wrapped completely up in each other, not daring to let go.

“I love you, too,” Derek murmured into the quiet, and Stiles smiled, kissed Derek’s shoulder as he slowly pulled out and got off Derek, reaching down for his shirt to clean them off before collapsing next to Derek and resting his head over Derek’s heart, as well as throwing his arms around his waist and snuggling into Derek. 

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, held him close. 

Stiles raised his hand to idly trace random patterns into Derek’s chest hair. “Did you ever think we’d get here?”

Derek hummed, “get where?”

“Here, together and in love? Happy?” 

“I had hoped for it,” Derek admitted, hands smoothing up and down Stiles’ side, and it was a soothing feeling that made Stiles feel warm and comfortable, sated. 

“Yeah?" Stiles smiled, listening to Derek’s heartbeat. 

 “Yeah. I never thought I'd get this with you, but I did, and I’m happy for it everyday.”

Stiles' smile grew wider as he looked up at Derek. “Me too,” Stiles said, leaning up to kiss Derek lightly before he returned his head to Derek’s chest, the sound of his heartbeat soothing, making Stiles feel sleepy. 

“I know I was a douchebag for a long time there, so thanks for sticking with me through that when you could have just left me at anytime,” Stiles murmured.

“Always,” Derek said, kissed the top of Stiles’ head, and Stiles’ heart melted. 

Scott found them like that later, sheet pooled around their waists, feet peeking out at the end, tangled together, smiles on their faces even in sleep, and Scott rolled his eyes fondly, thought of how far Stiles has come since the year before, how happy he had been in the last few months since he and Derek had officially gotten together.

It looked like another night of staying with Allison, which Scott did not mind in the slightest. 

So he got his things, being careful not to disturb the happy couple, and left the room as quietly as he entered it.

And Stiles and Derek did not stir on the bed where they lay, where their hands were clasped together and their fingers were intertwined on Derek’s chest, right over his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a drabble on tumblr, but ended up turning into a monster, and with encouragement from friends, I decided to post it on AO3. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
